


Denial is Not Just a River in Egypt

by Ad_Astra



Series: Denialverse [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Matsuoka Rin is the biggest anti-climax in the history of romance, Mild Angst, TsundeRin, character introspection, cheap lecherous jokes, except for chapter 10, fuckbuddies to actual boyfriends, gratuitous descriptions of food, takes place before Free! Eternal Summer, videogame metaphors, warning: Nagisa, which takes place within and after ES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/pseuds/Ad_Astra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin comes to terms with something he never thought he wanted. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/988441">This Gentle Heart Will Mess You Up.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Let’s go out.”

“What?”

Makoto rolls over on his side and looks at Rin. “I said, let’s go out.”

“To where? If you’re hungry, we don’t have to get up, we can just call for delivery,” Rin answers, and impatiently nudges Makoto’s calf with his toes. “C’mon, Nitori’s not coming back for an hour, and it’s my turn to top.”

“I’m not hungry Rin,” Makoto says, letting out a short chuckle when Rin presses closer to him and scrunches his face like a cat getting scratched behind the ears. “I meant, I want to hang out with you somewhere you know, _not_ horizontal.”

Rin thinks for a moment before replying. “… So, sex against the wall?”

Makoto smiles wryly. “We already did that last week.”

“Yeah, that was great,” Rin says, a barely-there dreamy sigh escaping him. Praise the gods above for bestowing upon Makoto the upper body strength to go with that magnificent back. In fact, just the memory of that time is making Rin feel hot all over again, which is all the more reason to make Makoto cease this pointless conversion and get back to more important matters of congress. He traces the cuts on Makoto’s biceps with a forefinger, smiling coyly. “We should try it again.”

Makoto does not get the hint. “Sure, next time,” he says, and much to Rin’s displeasure, actually moves away to lie down on his back. “Anyway, I was thinking that we could go somewhere more public.”

“No thanks, exhibitionism isn’t really my thing,” Rin answers quickly, refusing to be deterred by Makoto’s cluelessness. He closes the distance between them again, pressing his hips against Makoto’s thigh, clearly communicating his mighty need for immediate action.

Makoto _still_ doesn’t budge. Honestly, it’s amazing how astute he can be on some things and terribly oblivious to certain others. “Also by going out, I meant not having sex.”

“What?!” Rin bolts upright and stares at Makoto.

Makoto reaches up and tucks a strand of Rin’s hair behind his ear. “I want to hang out Rin,” he says softly, the palm of his hand lightly cupping Rin’s cheek. “Like watch a movie, go to the arcade, have ice cream.”

Rin wrinkles his nose, though he doesn’t shy away from Makoto’s hand. “So like, a date?”

Makoto shrugs, and drops his hand. “You could call it whatever you like.”

Makoto’s tone is carefully neutral, skirting the unspoken issue between them. Rin can’t blame him. This thing of theirs started mainly to serve a mutual benefit—a coping mechanism for what Haru could not give to either of them. Despite everything that has happened, Makoto and Rin have always been friends; it’s why this arrangement has worked out so well. Granted, this was spurred on by a completely arbitrary whim, owing to the machinations of certain blond fiends named Hazuki Nagisa, but still, while they were technically forced into starting this, they weren’t forced to keep _continuing_ it.

It should be  simple really. In fact, there are many things about this that are fairly straightforward. Sex is simple. Rin being captivated by Haru and his fluid grace in the water is simple. Makoto being devoted to Haru is simple because there was never really a time where he wasn’t. Haru choosing neither of them is simple for obvious reasons.  

But the two of them going into this knowing that it’s only because neither of them could have Haru is complicated. The frustrating tiptoeing game of who will take that first step out of Haru’s orbit and _admit_ to it is complicated. Haru, who is possibly the simplest person among the three of them, complicates things, and it’s not even his fault.

Rin has never expected Makoto to take that first step—considering how he’s the one who comes as a packaged deal with Haru. Though then again, Makoto is crafty, making the first move, but leaving his statements open ended for Rin to take however he pleases.

Of course, there’s also the possibility that Rin might just be reading far too much into this, and Makoto really just wants to do something that requires them to keep their hands off each other’s pants, which makes this long-winded speculation all for nothing.

Rin takes his time to answer. All the while, Makoto says nothing, patiently waiting for Rin to wring out a possible downside to this.

Eventually, Rin realizes that there are none. He shrugs. “Alright, fine.”

Makoto’s eyes brighten up almost instantly and he shifts to lie on his side, fully facing Rin. “Great. Maybe we can spend the afternoon together before the barbecue at Haru’s on Saturday?”

“Let me check,” Rin says, grabbing his phone from the bed and checking out his planner. He has one thing scheduled in the afternoon, but trigonometry homework’s fairly easy, and he can trust Nitori to brief him on whatever discussions they have on the team meeting.

Makoto nudges him when he doesn’t reply for a long time. “Well?”

“Yeah okay,” Rin says, squeezing in “trigonometry homework” between “Study for Chemistry exam “ and “read Elie Wiesel’s Night for Western History” in his Sunday schedule.  He can probably find a podcast of the book on the internet and listen to it while doing his circuit training or something. Hit two birds with one stone and all that. “I have nothing better to do anyway.” 

Makoto shifts again, this time to lie on his stomach, pillowing his head in his folded arms as he looks at Rin, a big happy smile on his face. Rin can practically see the invisible puppy tail wagging in excitement. It’s kind of adorable. “So where do you want to go?” ,

“I don’t know,” Rin says. Now that they’ve gotten that loaded question out of the way, Rin remembers that he still has needs that aren’t being met, which must be rectified post-haste. “Surprise me.”

“Okay,” Makoto says, and sighs contentedly when Rin’s fingers trail lightly over the knobs of his spine. “I’ll do that.”

“Uh-huh.” Rin’s hand trails lower, eliciting more appreciative sounds from Makoto, before sliding over that fine ass…

… and giving it a loud, satisfying _smack_ , making Makoto yelp.  “Now stop talking and get on your hands and knees,” Rin says, grinning. “It’s my turn.”

Makoto laughs, and obeys gladly.

*

Rin is not very impressed.

“The shopping arcade? Really?” Rin asks, with a rather emphatic eye roll. He knew Makoto would go for safe choices, but this is lame.

“Yeah. There’s something I want to show you,” Makoto says, eyes twinkling as he motions for Rin to follow him. Rin just sighs and quickens his pace to walk beside Makoto, silently cursing Makoto’s long strides, and how Rin needs to walk a half-beat faster to match it.  

They stop in front of a rather cozy looking music store. It also looks fairly new, its windows peppered with an equitable ratio of foreign and local artists, along with ads for imported headphones and mechanics for a raffle draw. There’s also a tarpaulin promoting Savoy’s new album (Rin makes a mental note to check out reviews later). Overall, the store looks a bit promising, but still nothing particularly memorable.

“Haru and I went here when it opened a month ago. They have the best selection of foreign music in Iwatobi,” Makoto says, as he opens the door to the store, bells jingling in their wake. “The owner’s one of my Dad’s friends, who happens to be a huge music enthusiast. And he finally achieved his dream of opening his own shop here. They had a raffle just last week to celebrate and I—”

“—Oh you’re back, Makoto-kun!” a light female voice interrupts him as they enter. Rin looks to the side and sees a petite brunette grinning at them, leaning her forearms on the counter.

Makoto beams and tugs Rin by the sleeve towards her. “Natsumi-san! You’re home for the weekend!”

“I need a breath of fresh air. The pollution in Tokyo is making me wilt,” Natsumi says, before turning towards Rin. “Who’s your new friend?”

“Ah, this is Matsuoka Rin,” Makoto says. “Rin, this is Sato Natsumi, the owner’s daughter.”

“Yo,” Rin says, with a small nod.

Natsumi smiles back briefly, before focusing her attention back on Makoto. “What brings you here? Your new earphones giving you any trouble? ”

“Oh no, they’re wonderful,” Makoto replies, smiling reassuringly. “I’m here because I was hoping to ask you if Rin and I could spend a few minutes in the Underworld.”

Rin’s ears perk up. Underworld? Did he hear that correctly?

Natsumi leans back, eyebrows raised. “You do know it’s off limits to the public right?”

Makoto rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Does family friend count as an exception?”

Natsumi giggles. “I only make exceptions for family friends who ask nicely.”

“Oi, what is the Underworld?” Rin hisses in Makoto’s ear. The word Underworld by default already sounds creepy, and Rin's imagination supplies him with a cave full of dark dead things and possibly hot vampire chicks who wear leather and trod on sniveling souls with six-inch stilettos or some shit. Or it could be a code word for quickie room, which would be more likely, but would also mean new and disturbing insights about the kind of things Makoto hides beneath his fluffy exterior.

“You’ll see,” Makoto whispers back, before turning towards Natsumi, hands clasped in front of his chest. “Please Natsumi-san?” he pleads, doing that wide-eyed, sunbeams and kittens smile of maximum light and goodness. “I’ll be really careful.  We only need 10 minutes... ”

Rin feels vaguely offended. 10 minutes? Rin has the stamina of a horse, excuse you Makoto.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Natsumi says, smirking a little. She toys with the key hanging from a metal chain around her neck as she looks up at the ceiling contemplatively. The resistance is strong with this one. “Needs more compliments.”

Makoto bites his lower lip, his head drooping a little, a tiny crease appearing between his brows, which Rin identifies to be the classic guilt-inducing, starving puppy face. Positively deadly.  “I really like your shirt,” Makoto says sincerely.  “That’s one of your original designs isn’t it?”

Rin takes a closer look at Natsumi’s shirt and suppresses a snort. If Makoto’s comment came from any other person, he’d probably be met with a backhand to the face, because the shirt in question is rather form-fitting, with a deep (though not obscene) neckline, providing an ample view of Natsumi’s hypnotic cleavage. It also has a cool, hand-painted dragon design, which is what Makoto was probably referring to, but _still_. Rin can just imagine the kind of shit Makoto can get away with if he’s more conscious of his persuasive powers.   

Natsumi grins cheekily, removes the necklace chain from her neck, and hands it to Makoto. “That’ll do I guess. Here you go. You can take twenty, but don’t break anything!”

 _Don’t break anything?_ Rin looks at Natsumi suspiciously. What, does she think they go around slamming each other on flat surfaces and destroying furniture as a means of foreplay? Is Natsumi implying that Makoto is harbouring some sort of rough, aggressive side deep within his chocolatey core, which Rin knows nothing about?

Makoto takes the key and bows gratefully. “Thank you very much!”

Rin waits until they’re out of hearing range before rounding on Makoto. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“You and Natsumi-san. You seem to know each other very well.”

“Ah, our families have gone on camping trips together before,” Makoto says animatedly. “She’s a college sophomore now, taking up visual arts. She’s nice and down-to-earth, despite being really well-off. Oh and she owns a really cute Himalayan cat called Baklava.”

Rin means to say “That’s nice,” and nonchalantly go back to the topic of the mysterious Underworld, but what actually comes out is: “So that’s your type huh?”

 “Type?”

 _Shit._ Rin wants to kick himself. So much for being nonchalant. Oh well, he opened this can of worms, might as well go all the way. “You want to date an artistic older woman who likes cats and has a nice rack?” he asks, looking straight ahead at a glaucoma-inducing poster of some Kpop boy band.

Makoto’s brow furrows. “I don’t want to date her Rin.”

“Really? You were checking out her boobs.” _Yes Matsuoka, keep digging that hole._

“What, no I wasn’t!” Makoto sputters, his face flushing a brilliant pink. He lowers his voice. “I was looking at the dragon design.”

“Are you sure? Because really, I’d understand, she’s pretty, artsy, rich, and she seems to like—“

“—I’m sure, Rin,” Makoto says, cutting him off, looking supremely uncomfortable. “She’s more like an older sister to me. Besides, she already has a boyfriend.”

Rin really shouldn’t be feeling as elated as he is with that information. He also should stop this line of questioning now, but Makoto is extra cute when flustered. Rin can’t resist teasing him a little more. “Well generally speaking, you like artistic flirty types then?”

“… Not really? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you like then?”

Makoto actually stops walking, and turns to look at Rin, wearing that “I-don’t-know-what-you’re-trying-to-pull-but-fine-I’ll-go-along-with-it” expression he usually wears around Nagisa.

“What?” Rin huffs.

Makoto pauses for a moment before answering and resuming their walk. “I like them a bit more feisty,” he says.

“She likes dragons. Dragons are feisty,” Rin quips.

“A secret sensitive side would be nice too.”

“She likes cats, and expresses herself through art.”

“Bonus points if they take after large aquatic apex predators,” Makoto adds, catching on, a corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile. “Preferably with distinctive carnivorous teeth.”

Fuck, Rin didn’t see that coming. “…I’ll tell Natsumi-san to see my dentist then.”

Makoto laughs, and Rin grins, relieved at the ease of their banter. It’s not curt, like with Haru, or grating, like with Nagisa. “I like boys with red hair and girly names,” Makoto says teasingly, and Rin nearly crashes into a table piled with DVDs on sale, and blames the heat in his cheeks on that. “And, we’re here.”

Makoto stops in front of a heavy-looking but otherwise normal door. Rin raises an eyebrow. The underworld in question is clearly a misnomer, as it’s neither under anything, nor grand enough to justify its name sake. Rin’s not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved. On the upside, no whips and chains and vampire chicks in stilettos; on the downside, it doesn’t look very interesting.

Makoto opens the door and steps inside the pitch black room.

Rin follows after him. Makoto takes his hand and for one horrifying moment, Rin actually thinks that maybe Makoto did bring him here to fool around after all. And while Rin may be more forward than most people, he’s certainly not _shameless._ “Did you bring me here for a quickie?” he blurts out. “I know you got permission from Natsumi-san but I’m not that kind of guy you know.”

Makoto laughs, but doesn’t let go of his hand. “Natsumi would kill me if I committed that kind of sacrilege here.”

“What is _here_?”

“The Secret Sound Room.”

“Secret sound room,” Rin repeats, his curiosity getting the better of him. “And it’s called Underworld because… what, am I supposed to experience something otherworldly here or something?”

“Mmm… Something like that,” Makoto says and switches on the lights.

“Something like that? What the fuck do you mean by...” Rin’s question trails off as the soft yellow light illuminates the centre piece on the mahogany table in the middle of the room.

The Art Deco-inspired tube amplifier sings a song of luxury, a classic marriage of science and art, speakers encased in polished aluminium surfaces and fine beech wood. To the left and right of it are two identical electrostatic headphones, ear cups and headband made with fine leather, gold polymer foil flashing beneath the protective stainless steel mesh casing. Majestic, boldly uneconomical; a proof-of-concept made material.

No way. No fucking _way._

“Is that…?” Rin can’t even say the words.

“The Sennheisser Orpheus HE 90 ,” Makoto confirms, in a reverent tone that speaks volumes (no pun intended) of his appreciation for superior sound.

“The Orpheus,” Rin sighs, mesmerized. He’s vaguely aware of Makoto squeezing his hand and leading him further into the room. Good thing too, otherwise he’d be stumbling all over the place like a duck on roller skates because goddamn, his inner audiophile is so turned on right now, he literally couldn’t move straight. Makoto thankfully, has the grace not to comment on what Rin’s pretty sure is a gobsmacked expression stamped on his face and helpfully guides him towards the table, placing Rin within reaching distance of what is arguably the most coveted and most expensive headphones sound system in the world.

“Here,” Makoto says, and tucks Rin’s hair behind his ears before taking the headphones from the table and carefully placing them around Rin’s head. Makoto’s fingers card through Rin’s hair briefly as he secures the headphones, adjusting the cups as necessary. Unconsciously, Rin reaches up and covers Makoto’s hands, before Makoto can move away.

“Can I, really?” he asks again, just to be sure.

Makoto laughs good-naturedly. “You look like I just showed you a unicorn.”

“You might as well have!” Rin protests. “I mean, there are only 300 of these in the world…”

“I got lucky,” Makoto says and steps back, tilting his head a bit, studying Rin’s face. Then he smiles. “It looks good on you.”

Rin remembers that he hasn’t let go of Makoto’s hands yet and quickly removes them. The room’s air conditioning is almost freezing, yet his neck feels hot, and Makoto’s closeness is not helping. “Yeah well, it costs more than seven thousand US dollars, it better make me look good,” he mumbles, stepping back and looking around. “Music?”

“Over here,” Makoto replies, going over towards a shelf in the corner of the room, which seems to be stocked with… holy shit, 12-inch _vinyl_ records. Rin stomps on the urge to sigh dreamily and maybe roll around on the floor in a fit of bliss because it doesn’t get any better than this.  Electrostatic headphones with tube amplifiers and fucking _analogue_ sound—if his inner audiophile was turned on before, it is downright _horny_ now.

Makoto picks out four records, and shows his choices to Rin. _Dark Side of the Moon_ by Pink Floyd, _Octavarium_ by Dream Theater, _Aerith’s Theme (Tour de Japon)_ by Nobuo Uematsu and _Now We are Free_ by Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard.

While Rin is privately pleased with Makoto’s excellent taste, he’s now even more conflicted, because how does one choose between four kinds of perfection? Though if he had to absolutely choose only one, he would probably go with Octavarium for the wicked electric guitars, but it lasts 24 minutes, and he'd rather try different kinds of music with the short time they have.

“Gladiator,” he says decisively, and Makoto nods, taking the “Now We Are Free” record and carefully placing it in the player, making sure not to get any scratches on it. Then he takes the key Natsumi gave him (because the Orpheus is one prissy motherfucker and on/off switches are _beneath_ it), inserts it on the side of the amplifier, and turns it.

Rin hears static for a few moments, as the amp warms up. Then suddenly, music so clear and breath-takingly sublime flows into his ears, and he has to close his eyes, and just _listen_. The sound is devastating in its clarity, strings blending harmoniously with brass and the haunting beat of the bass drums. He knows that music can be powerful, but the Orpheus brings it to a whole new level, taking his mind soaring, sound translating to epic images in his mind’s eye.

When the vocals come in, Rin eyes flutter open and he sees Makoto on the opposite end of the table, wearing the second set of headphones. His eyes are closed, the dim lighting rendering half of his features shadowed, but the expression on his face is the pinnacle of contentment.

Then Makoto opens his eyes, and meets Rin’s.

Rin sucks in a breath. Makoto’s gaze is unnervingly direct, and almost luminous beneath the dim light. There’s three feet of space between the two of them, yet somehow, locked in sound like this, it feels as intimate as the Saturday mornings in Makoto’s room, the quiet “five more minutes” time frame where both of them slowly wake up, crossing ankles, sharing each other’s warmth. Rin is suddenly hyper aware of every detail about Makoto— the way his bangs fall on his face, the contrast of his orange wrist watch against the tan of his skin, the way his long fingers easily encompass the ear cups of his headphones, containing a universe of sound between two hands.

It might be his imagination, but Rin hears something like an off-tempo back beat, not quite contradicting the music, but not flowing with it either.

Makoto’s mouth is curved into that gentle smile, filled with the happiness of sharing something beautiful with somebody. Sharing something beautiful with _Rin._

The back beat gets stronger, and Rin realizes with a sudden, blinding clarity, that it is matching his _pulse_.

Makoto’s gaze lingers for a few more seconds. Then he closes his eyes again, the smile remaining on his face.

It takes Rin a while to realize that he is also smiling back, so caught up in the moment. He doesn’t know if it happened before Makoto closed his eyes, but Rin finds that it’s impossible to stop, even if Makoto could not see it.

He closes his eyes again, and the crystal clear sounds wash over him, tranquil, with a touch of melancholy, _soothing_. Rin does not understand Gaelic but the exquisite voice and the sheer beauty of the music make him think of standing at a high vantage point, watching waves crash along the shore; make him imagine the arc a seasoned diver makes when jumping head first off the edge of a cliff, the rush of air, the trust needed to be certain that the water’s deep enough to take you. A leap of faith.

When he opens his eyes again and sees Makoto looking back, he makes sure Makoto doesn’t miss it.

 _Thank you,_ he mouths.

 _You’re welcome,_ Makoto mouths back, eyes crinkling at the corners.

The music eventually comes to a stop. The back beat keeps its steady cadence.

~TBC~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin and Makoto continue their music date and discover a few more things about each other.

“Aww Rin, I didn’t know Aerith’s theme gets you so emotional.”

“Shut up, that was a totally legit reaction,” Rin snaps, stuffing his damp handkerchief in his pocket and covering the last of his non-existent sniffles via a mighty glower in Makoto’s direction. “If you did not feel sad when Aerith died, you have no soul.”

“I was devastated,” Makoto replies quickly, in a somber tone that would leave no doubt on his sincerity, and Rin nods, satisfied. “And I remember Haru was really upset too, though I suspect it’s because he invested so much time to get her final limit break before the 2nd disc only to have her die in the end.”

Rin snorts. “Typical. But I get that. She has the best magic stats and a totally boss 3rd level limit break. I was so pissed when she died. She’s one of my first videogame crushes.”

Makoto raises one eyebrow, and for some obscene reason, Rin suddenly feels embarrassed. “What?” he asks grouchily.

“So that’s your type?” Makoto replies, almost cheekily. “Brown hair, green eyes, smiles a lot?”

Rin stops walking. Oh, so Makoto wants to play this game huh? He slowly, deliberately, turns around and grins, all teeth and lips. He almost feels sorry for the other boy. Makoto oozes beatific charm out his pores, of that there could be no doubt, but the nuances of suggestive wordplay will never be his forte.

“Yeah, it’s a recent discovery,” Rin starts, taking a small step forward, meeting Makoto’s gaze. “I also like those with a penchant for self-sacrifice, even if it's stupid and ill-advised sometimes.”

The tips of Makoto’s ears turn pink at this and the corners of his lips tug up tremulously into a modest smile, but Rin is not done yet. He takes another step closer. “I also find an intuitive understanding of other people really attractive,” he continues.

Makoto doesn’t take a step back, but Rin could clearly see the movement of his adam’s apple as he gulps.

“Lastly…” He takes a final step right into Makoto’s personal space, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of Makoto’s shirt, and tiptoes up to whisper, “Bonus points if they do magic with a big. _Stick_.”

The effect is instantaneous but not in the way Rin hopes; Makoto quickly steps away from Rin as if burned, his face a furious crimson. “Rin…” he whispers, and abruptly turns towards the table piled high with DVDs on sale. “Don’t do this in public.”

Rin feels rather insulted. “What is your _problem_ , it’s not like I grabbed your crotch or something.”

Makoto shakes his head, his head bent, bangs falling over to hide his eyes. “It’s not that. I’m…” He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long, laboured exhale. He presses closer to the table edge.

Rin raises his eyebrows and watches the way Makoto shifts his weight from one foot to another, as if trying to ease a specific discomfort…

Then it clicks.

Oh _. Ohhhh_.

“Oh um…” Rin simultaneously feels bad and kind of flattered. A laugh is threatening to escape his lips but he quickly smothers it with a completely unsuspicious cough. “Wow, seriously?”

“It’s not funny,” Makoto mumbles, his fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles are white. “I’m _seventeen_.”

“Okay okay I’m sorry, don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“Oh Makoto-kun!” Natsumi yells from the front of the store. “Are you guys done?”

“I’m panicking,” Makoto amends.

“Yes we are, give us a minute!” Rin calls out to Natsumi, before turning his attention back to Makoto’s trapped-gazelle face. “Uh, shit shit um… Dead kittens.”

Makoto looks pained. “Something else.”

Holy shit that must be some kind of extreme level 99 hard-on, if even the thought of lifeless kittens can’t tame it. “Nagisa’s porn folder,” Rin tries again.

No dice. Makoto just looks confused, and Rin has to admit that suggesting unspecified porn is a counter-intuitive measure to killing surprise erections, even if said porn caters to Hazuki Nagisa’s peculiar and often questionable tastes.

“The guro section,” Rin specifies.

“How do you even _know_ that,” Makoto groans, though his trapped-gazelle look has now transformed into his classic shocked-and-dismayed face. Good, Rin’s on the right track.

“Rei called me over to help fix Nagisa’s laptop once. Never again, that way lies madness,” Rin replies. “But hold on, we’re getting off topic. Texas Chainsaw massacre.”

Makoto whimpers. Just a little bit more now.  

“Saw IV. The Conjuring! Human centipede!”

Bingo.

It takes nearly all of Rin’s force of will not to burst out laughing when Makoto’s shocked-and-dismayed face evolves to a higher, more sophisticated form, which Rin decides to christen as “What-the-actual-fuck-that-is-so-disgusting-my-boner-not-only-backed-down-it-also-crawled-back-into-my-body-cavity” face. Rin adds it to his mental lexicon of favourite Makoto expressions.

He makes a quick visual inspection below Makoto’s belt, and satisfactorily notes that it looks quite decent and significantly less horizontal now. “Better?”

“It’ll do,” Makoto replies. He takes a deep breath again and straightens his back, refusing to look Rin in the eye. “I’ll just go return the key to Natsumi-san.”

“Right, you do that, I’ll uh, go… check out the headphones selection,” Rin says, nodding decisively and going in the opposite direction to give Makoto some temporary space. He manages to keep his face utterly serious, as Makoto does his very best not to appear like he’s waddling towards the counter. Only when Makoto is safely out of his immediate line of sight does Rin allow his shoulders to start quaking with quiet laughter, and he walks towards the back of the store, where the sound accessories span an entire wall.

Rin’s impressed. This store really is something. The headphones selection is on par with the ones he sees in big music stores in Australia, which is a surprising thing to find in a small port town like Iwatobi. Big names leap out to him- Bose, Sennheisser, Polk, Ultrasone, Denon, Audio Technica. On the right corner, there’s a pair of Monster i-Sport Immersion in-ear headphones sitting prettily in a glass display case. He looks forlornly at its price tag of 20,000 yen.

“You like those?” Makoto asks from behind him, making Rin jump.

“Don’t go sneaking up on people like that!” Rin grumbles crossly.

“Sorry. But really, you like those?” Makoto asks again, sporting a thoughtful look in his eyes. Rin knows that look—it’s the look Makoto gets when he finds out what makes his friends happy and is determined to do everything in his power to make it happen. And while Rin covets the earphones like he covets his next personal best time, even he’s not that thick-faced to let Makoto do that.

“Don’t even think about buying it Makoto; it’d cost you several months' allowance on top of your kidney,” Rin says in a warning tone.

“I wasn’t going to,” Makoto says with a gentle smile. “Just didn’t peg you for an in-ear headphones guy.”

“They’re super comfy, especially when going on runs,” Rin says. “This one’s waterproof, so I can actually wash them.” He sighs longingly at the earphones one last time before turning back to Makoto. “You okay now?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Makoto answers wryly.

“Hey, I got rid of it didn’t I?”

“Point taken,” Makoto admits, laughing. “Let’s go?”

“Not gonna buy anything?” Rin asks.

Makoto shakes his head. “I’m good. I just wanted you to check out the Orpheus.”

“Okay.”

On the way back to the front door, Rin spots the latest Savoy album on the New Releases rack, and decides to buy it, despite not reading the reviews. It’s the least he can do, considering how the twenty minutes he spent in the Underworld was a priceless transcendent moment that he won’t likely forget for the rest of his natural life. 1300 yen is nothing.

“Had fun?” Natsumi asks, a hint of teasing in her tone as she takes the cd from Rin and scans it  

“Yeah. Thank you so much, that was incredible,” Rin says, flashing her a bright toothy grin.

For some strange reason, this causes Natsumi’s eyes to widen, taken aback, and she shoots Makoto a half-alarmed, half-surprised look.

“Yeah, his teeth are really like that,” Makoto says, chuckling.

Rin abruptly shuts his mouth, and looks away, his cheeks warm. “Sorry, they just turned out that way…” he mutters.

“Why are you sorry? That is so _cool_!” Natsumi gushes, her eyes sparkling, as if Rin just did a triple backflip across the store and somersaulted into the checkout counter. “You’ve got like, dragon teeth!”

Rin’s cheeks get even hotter. This is new. He’s more accustomed to his smile being likened to the kind possessed by man-eating sharks, or maybe imaginary diabolical creatures parents threaten their children with to make them behave. He makes an effort not to look too pleased, while racking his brain for something modest and sensible to reply.

Makoto touches Rin’s wrist reassuringly. “I was thinking more along the lines of shark, but dragon works out too,” he says with a laugh, sparing Rin from any awkward attempts to answer. “Anyway, we should get going. Have a good day, Natsumi-san!”

Natsumi beams and hands Rin his purchase. “You too Makoto-kun, Matsuoka-kun,” she says. “Come back anytime!”

They exit the store and join the rest of the mall’s afternoon crowd. Rin totally doesn’t check out his reflection on the next store window to verify the supposed coolness of his dragon-smile, and Makoto totally doesn’t pretend to look the other way while he does so.

“So, where to next?” Rin asks, as soon as he tears his gaze away from his reflection.

Makoto looks up thoughtfully, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Well, since we’re on a music theme now…”

*

Karaoke. Of course.

“Jaz geev me a reason to keepu my haato beating, don’t wohree you’re seyfu raitu heer in my armuusss.”

Makoto singing English is a dichotomy of competing elements—he has a good singing voice, but his English pronunciation is so horrible Rin can’t stop laughing.

“You’re so mean,” Makoto says, pouting as he stops the song. “I was just trying it out— you made it look so easy.”

“That’s because I spent 4 years speaking nothing but English,” Rin says, as he flips between pages in the song book. “One OK Rock has a selection of pure Japanese songs, why not go for one of those?”

“Fine, I’ll switch to Japanese,” Makoto mutters, and presses a few buttons on the remote.   

Rin raises an eyebrow. “Really? Old Codex?”

“I like this band,” Makoto says almost defensively.

“Yeah I know. And Rage on? I’m pretty sure this is one of their heavier rock songs. Are you serious?”

“Haru says it suits me,” Makoto says with a fond smile.

Rin rolls his eyes. “Haru is weird as fuck.”

Makoto eyes twinkle. “You showed Haru and me a sight we’ve never seen before,” he says, as he points the mic briefly in Rin’s face before bringing it back near his lips. “Now you’re going to hear a sound you’ve never heard before.”

“This after giving me the Orpheus experience,” Rin says, smirking, as the heavy guitar riffs blast through the speakers. “Somehow I doubt tha—“

Makoto sings.

Rin doesn’t laugh for the rest of the session.

*

“If all else fails, you can try to become a rock star,” Rin suggests, as he bites into a watermelon popsicle Makoto got for him in the nearby 711. He leans back against the wrought-iron park bench, where he and Makoto decided to rest before buying supplies for the barbecue party at Haru’s later. “You could get groupies, wear leather, jump into mosh pits. Get your ass grabbed in airports.”

They spent two hours in the karaoke booth, where Makoto proceeded to flabbergast Rin with his heretofore unknown singing talent, transforming from soft-spoken sweetheart to a beast with a dynamic vocal texture ranging from “gargling broken glass ” to “smooth as the sweetest sin.” Truly, it was a sound Rin had never heard before, one he would not mind hearing again. And again. In a private room. Preferably screaming his name.

Makoto shudders, and puts down the spoonful of chocolate ice cream he was intending to put into his mouth scant seconds prior. “I don’t want to jump into mosh pits. I don’t think it will be a pleasant experience.”

“What, you don’t want to feel like a supreme overlord, riding a human wave and getting empowered by a bunch of random hands touching you in inappropriate places?”

 Makoto stares at Rin as if he just suggested that he coat his dick with honey and stick it into an anthill. “No.”

“You’ll get sponsorships! Money! Free clothes!” Rin tries again, playfully poking Makoto on the side and grinning at his growing discomfort. “All the sex you want. Orgies!”

Makoto wrinkles his nose. “Not my thing.”

“Sex is not your thing?”

“Random sex with strangers and orgies, no. Sex with you, yes.”

“Aww, you know exactly what to say to a guy,” Rin says, pleased. He thinks of the way Makoto holds the microphone to his lips and remembers feeling irrationally jealous. Why do they have CCTV cameras in karaoke booths anyway, he could have had more than his mind blown in those two hours.

Makoto laughs. “I try. But seriously though. I don’t want to be famous. Fame is terrifying.”

Rin’s popsicle stops halfway to his mouth. “You’re _scared_ of fame?”

“Kinda… Or I just don’t want it,” Makoto clarifies, shrugging. He looks wistfully at the bunch of kids making a warzone out of the park’s playground, and absently eats another spoonful of ice cream. “I wouldn’t want strangers following my every move, nosing in on my private life. I don’t think I can live like that.”

Those are valid points, Rin has to admit. But still. “That’s a small price to pay when I become a famous Olympic swimmer,” he says.  

Makoto smiles softly, understanding. “That’s true. And I’m sure you’ll do great Rin.”

“You’re not going to stop being friends with me if I become famous right?” _Will you not want to be with me if I become famous,_ Rin doesn’t ask.

“Of course not!” Makoto says, the look on his face clearly stating that the very idea of it offends him on a fundamental level. “I will support you all the way. I just prefer the shadows to the limelight.”

Rin is touched. “What if Haru joins me?” he asks casually, knowing full well that an Olympic training regimen plus Haru is a disaster waiting to happen. He’s not implying anything by it of course, but he _is_ curious. Haru is important to both of them, and vying for the Olympics is a major decision that would bring about certain changes to their relationship— if Rin allows himself to think that far, which he isn’t, because this is all hypothetical. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to to know Makoto’s stand on this.

Makoto doesn’t even blink. “I’ll support you both,” he answers with such profound conviction, it’s impossible for Rin to accept it as anything other than absolute truth.

“Even if it takes us far away from here?” Rin presses.

“Yeah of course,” Makoto says again, without hesitation. “I’ll be cheering you on from wherever I am. I’m not going to let my distance from you both interfere with your dream.”

Makoto says this like any other answer is unthinkable. For some unfathomable reason, this upsets Rin.

“So you’re just going to let the two of us be?” Rin asks. _This is for hypothetical reasons_ , his mind reminds him.“You’re not worried about anything?”

Makoto thinks for a while, his wooden ice cream spoon stuck in his mouth. “Hmm, well I’d probably worry about Haru—he’s not exactly the type to follow strict diets or training regimens that don’t involve water,” he says after a while. “But if you’re there, then it should be fine.” He gives Rin another sunny smile and returns his attention to his rapidly melting chocolate ice cream.

Rin doesn’t know whether to be more bothered by the fact that all of Makoto’s worries are still focused solely on Haru even on a hypothetical and probably unlikely future, or that he actually thinks Rin is going to be useful in stemming said worries. He wonders what that says about him. He wonders what that says about Makoto.

He watches Makoto from the corner of his eye. There is nothing unusual in Makoto’s movements, no trace of uncertainty in his expression. When they were kids, and Rin was still young and foolish, before Australia rattled his bones and sharpened his teeth, he used to be able to see past the layers of Makoto’s smile. He was never at Haru’s level no, Rin will readily concede defeat to Haru in that aspect. But Rin could do it too, perhaps with a little more difficulty, and a lot more concentration, but he _could_ , despite being friends with Makoto for only a few months back then. He remembers that day in the river, and how he looked at Makoto, who was trembling and terrified, then at Haru, flushed with fever and unconscious, and somehow worried more about the former. He remembers the bus ride home, how Makoto smiled so brightly, in a way that reminded Rin not of the usual sunlight glinting off the sea, but of the glare of fluorescent lights in a too-white room filled with broken things.

He’s trying to see it now. Things have changed so much (Rin most of all), but he still remembers, and that’s what’s important.

“What?” Makoto asks, when Rin doesn’t say anything.

Try as he might, Rin can’t see anything that would suggest Makoto is being dishonest about his real feelings, and wonders if it’s a function of Rin’s ability to read Makoto being vastly diminished in their time apart, or if Makoto’s just gotten better at hiding things. At any rate, it would seem like Makoto would really be alright with Haru and Rin moving on to bigger things without him.

It’s the best case scenario. So why does Rin feel upset about it?

In the end, all he replies with is: “I’m not going to mother Haru. That’s your job.” He takes another bite from his popsicle, with a bit more force than necessary. “Besides, he probably won’t go for it anyway. Not with his 'I only swim free' attitude.” Some of the watermelon juices start trickling down his chin but Makoto is already reaching over and wiping it away with some facial tissue.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought so too,” Makoto replies, as he gently retracts his hand before Rin could so much as protest at that unwarranted babying. “But I’ve been wrong about Haru before.”

Rin raises an eyebrow. “Really now?”

“Yeah.” Makoto doesn’t elaborate and Rin doesn’t ask. “Either way, I’ll support you, Rin. No matter where you go.”

Rin wonders why he even bothered bringing up this stupid subject. Really, it's not as if he was expecting Makoto to answer anything less than "full and total support." Makoto has always been like that, giving his all to the people closest to his heart, heedless of how it will affect him. It’s one of his best and worst character flaws.

And for all of Rin's past transgressions, he knows that “people closest to Makoto’s heart” most probably includes him. It’s a bit humbling. “Well then thanks. I guess,” he says. Another surge of uneasiness wells up inside him, but he buries it with a cheeky grin and attempts to go back to their silly topic, before the conversation entered Haru-related waters. “And when I get famous, I promise not to talk about you. I’m not even going to mention you anywhere. No one is going to know that you even exist in my world.”  

Makoto looks taken aback. “Oh wow, um okay…”

Rin’s unintentionally problematic choice of words suddenly dawns on him. “Wait, no I didn’t mean it that way!” he sputters, mortified. “I just meant, I’m not going to do anything to attract attention to you. Not that I’m going to totally ignore your existence or something, because you said you want avoid fame, and unnecessary attention but—"

“—I got what you meant Rin,” Makoto interrupts, laughing. His eyes do that crinkly downturned thing again that makes him look like he’s eternally enamored with the world, and it suddenly strikes Rin just how much he craves seeing it directed his way. “And thanks. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Rin’s uneasiness ebbs. He realizes that he’s staring, and promptly looks away, finishing his popsicle with one last bite. “Yeah well, I still find it weird that you’re actually scared of the universal dream of becoming rich and famous…” he mutters, willing the blood vessels in his cheeks to stop betraying him. “I mean, what _aren’t_ you scared of?”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Makoto says, elbowing Rin lightly on the ribs. “And I said I’m _not_ scared of fame. It’s just something that people aspire for, that I don’t think I’ll ever want. But rich….” He glances sideways at Rin, smiling softly. “I wouldn’t mind being rich.”

Rin snorts. “Everyone wants to be rich. If you were rich, I’d let you buy me those earphones.”

Makoto chuckles. “So you’re saying you’d let me spoil you?”

“Who said anything about spoiling?” Rin huffs, and tosses his popsicle stick in the nearby trash can beside their bench, already feeling much better . “It’ll be an equivalent exchange. I’ll pay for it with something you actually need, like English lessons and orgasms, so really, you’re getting the better end of the deal here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Makoto says seriously, though his eyes belie his mirth. “You’re being very generous right now though.”

Rin takes a quick look around for any nosy onlookers and then promptly bites Makoto on the shoulder for that. 

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post A/N: ... I just realized the first part of this fic would probably not make sense to you guys if you don't know who [Aerith](http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Aerith_Gainsborough) is, but just in case you're curious, she's one of the main characters of the iconic RPG from Square Enix, Final Fantasy 7. She is basically everything Rin described - brown hair, green eyes, smiles a lot, self-sacrificing, has an eerie understanding of people, and does amazing magic with a might staff. Sounds familiar? :p


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rin and Haru engage in a completely no-homo sausage grilling contest, Rin and Makoto engage in totally homo shenanigans in Haru’s bathroom, and Nagisa brings out his innuendo A-game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that the tags "Warning: Nagisa" and "cheap lecherous jokes" have been added. This chapter is kind of obscene and unforgivable; just close your eyes and think “I SWIM FREE FOR THE TEAM.”

After a brief stop at the supermarket to stock up on sausages and burger patties, Rin and Makoto finally make their way over to Haru’s house. The smell of grilling mackerel and squid has already permeated the air by the time the two of them step into Haru’s backyard, where two traditional charcoal grills have been set up. Haru is hard at work over at his own grill while Rei seems to have barely escaped getting his eyebrows singed by a column of flame firing from his.

“I was just trying to speed up the coal burning process!” Nagisa exclaims, looking not the least bit contrite.

“My instructions were for you to fan the flames, not splash vodka in it,” Rei retorts, cautiously poking the coals with a stick, making sure he’s no longer in danger of setting himself on fire. “You’re not even supposed to have alcohol.”

“Rei-chan, I told you, my sister handed me the wrong flask, and she’s now being disappointingly not drunk with my strawberry juice.”

“Typical. We’ve barely even started and already, you’ve broken the law, and halfway to committing accidental arson,” Rin deadpans by way of announcing his and Makoto’s presence, and the rest of the boys turn to him, except for Haru, who just nods in his direction before going back to his mackerel.

Nagisa lights up, Rin’s sardonic remark sailing over his head, and he happily bounces over and grabs their grocery bag from Makoto’s grasp to look inside.

“Hey!” Rin snaps, but Makoto just laughs it off, letting Nagisa run off with their contribution.

“Oh Mako-chan, you are my saviour,” Nagisa cries, unmindful of Rin’s baleful glower, as he puts the bag on a plastic table and pulls out several packs of kielbasas and frankfurters. “Meat glorious _meat.”_

Rei makes a face. “He wanted to get hotdogs, but he spent all his money on strawberry ice cream and soda.”

“I thought _you_ were going to get us hotdogs, but you just spent everything on squid and prawns,” Nagisa complains.

“I am not buying you hotdogs,” Rei replies crossly. “I find it incredulous that you are still craving hotdogs, considering the experiment you pulled last month.”

“What experiment?” Makoto asks, curious.

“I wanted to see if it was possible to subsist entirely on a diet of hotdogs and strawberry juice for a full week without any real consequences,” Nagisa explains.

“An experiment so inherently without merit and good sense that I shudder to think of the repercussions you would have suffered without my timely intervention,” Rei mutters, as he fans the grill, smoke billowing out of the slats.

“So what happened?” Rin asks, his morbid curiosity winning over his usual “ignore” option where Nagisa’s infinite rabbit hole of crazy ideas is concerned.

“The results were inconclusive,” Rei answers with a slight huff. “I got a hold of his sisters’ numbers, and they’ve proven to be quite formidable allies when it comes to ensuring Nagisa’s healthy lifestyle.”

“Yeah, that’s the going press release, but the truth is, Rei-chan learned the basics of booty bargaining at the right time,” Nagisa whispers in Rin’s ear.

“Wow, gross, I don’t want to hear about that,” Rin complains, and proceeds to raid the nearby cooler for a drink.

Makoto just chuckles. “Well we brought enough for all of us, so go knock yourself out.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you don’t encourage his unhealthy eating habits Makoto-senpai,” Rei says, adjusting the skewers of his prawns and squid. “Meat is not the only source of protein.”

“Yeah, but it tastes the best,” Nagisa argues. “Right Rin-chan?”

This is probably the only thing he and Nagisa will agree on. Rin shrugs and pops the tab of his diet soda open. “Sorry Rei, my meat eating policy is go red or go home.”

Nagisa beams and turns back to Rei. “See Rei-chan, I told you Rin-chan and I are cut from the same cloth.”

Rin sometimes has profound difficulty believing he could even stand being in the same _hemisphere_ as Nagisa. “That statement is so wrong and horrible, I feel violated just hearing it.”

“Stop being such a drama queen Rin-chan,” Nagisa scoffs with a rather empathic eyeroll. “My logic is flawless.”

“That’s an excellent joke Nagisa, I’m dying with laughter inside.”

“Just listen," Nagisa presses on. "See, we’re both carnivores, right?”

Rin just  _knows_ he’s being punked, but sometimes, the key to dealing with Nagisa is to simply indulge him and then just pretend not to know him for a couple of hours afterwards. “I guess?”

“And we’re both gay.”

“Your point being?”

Nagisa winks saucily at him and grins like a fiend. “We really really love our meat, mmm.”

Yep, Rin totally walked into that one. A few beats of silence ensue, as everyone who is not Nagisa takes a moment to mourn all that valuable brain space forever lost, annihilated by the sheer badness of Nagisa’s salacious sense of humour.

“Why am I friends with you again? I forgot,” Rin says.

 “You know what, I think I’ll have mackerel first,” Makoto announces, looking queasy.

“Good idea,” Haru says, looking grateful for the distraction, and proceeds to place two more slices on his grill.

Rei is actually burying half his face into his palm, mumbling something along the lines of “I swear he wasn’t this bad when I picked him up this morning,” while looking imploringly at his grill as if questioning it for his bizarre taste in boyfriends.

As expected, none of these reactions deters Nagisa’s boundless enthusiasm a single bit. “Mako-chan’s not having meat? Yay, more for me, om nom nom nom,” he says.

Rin glares at him. “He just said he’s not having meat now—he’ll have them later,” he retorts, before finally taking a huge gulp from his long since opened drink. “Don’t get his share.”

Nagisa sticks out his tongue at him and proceeds to rip the sausage packs open with a knife. “Fine fine, I’ll just get these ready,” he says, and dumps the contents into a large plate.

Makoto looks around, brows furrowed as if remembering something. “Hey wait, isn’t Kou-chan coming?”

“Oh she cancelled at the last minute saying she doesn’t want to crash our sausage party,” Nagisa answers. He picks up one piece of kielbasa, cuts two half-inch slits on each side and expertly pierces it with a wooden barbecue stick. “But I really think she’s got her own sausage to conquer.”

Rin chokes on his drink  He manages to sputter a very emphatic “WHAT?” in between hacking coughs, while Makoto thumps him on the back to help him recover.

Rei throws Nagisa a reproachful look. “She’s hanging out with her friend Hanamura-san,” he says quickly, before Rin can initiate the usual violence that occurs whenever his sister’s romantic prospects are raised. “I assure you, there are no sausages involved.”

“Aww, Rei-chan, you’re no fun,” Nagisa sighs, pouting, though his fingers do not stop with their current task of preparing his long-awaited meal.

“It better be a joke,” Rin warns, wiping his mouth with the tissue Makoto hands him. He makes a mental note to interrogate Gou on his next home visit.

Haru, who seems to have finally decided to leave his cozy mackerel-scented airspace to grace them with his presence, sets down a plate containing two perfectly grilled fish slices. He grabs his water bottle from the table, and takes a huge gulp, observing Nagisa’s handiwork. Once he's deemed himself sufficiently moisturized, he takes a couple of sticks from the pile. “Here, let me,” he says. “Rin and Makoto can prepare the rice.”

Rin grabs Haru’s wrist, scowling. “I prefer to cook my own if it’s all the same to you.”

Haru raises an eyebrow. “You can cook?”

“Duh, I lived alone in Australia for four years; of course I picked up way more than just swimming skills from there,” Rin snaps, affronted.

Haru wrenches his hand away and actually smirks. “Like what, changing your teeth to adapt to their cuisine?”

Nagisa lets out a loud, suspicious cough which vaguely sounds like _shots fired_.

Rin’s eyes narrow and he squares his shoulders, taking advantage of those few centimetres he has over Haru to stare him down. “What would _you_ know about grilling meat; I don’t recall ever seeing you eat anything with legs.”

Haru stares back coolly. “Eating is different from cooking. Do you even know how to work a charcoal grill? ”

There’s a collective sucking in of breaths, and everyone else in the immediate vicinity tenses up at the ominous, charged silence, the kind that pre-empts another hijinks-filled episode of the Rin and Haru show. Then…

“Makoto.” Rin and Haru both say at the same time. They glare at each other briefly before speaking, again in unison.

“Hold my soda / water bottle.”

“Really? You guys are doing this?” Makoto groans, even as he reluctantly accepts the items the other two shove at him.

Rin snatches the red apron Nagisa mysteriously summoned from somewhere and ties it behind his back, never breaking away from the visual standoff for even one second. Peripherally, he can see Rei hastily gathering his squid from the grill, and stepping aside, looking warily at the both of them.

“Well then,” Nagisa says, grinning widely, as he takes another skewer and hands it to Rin. “Let’s see who between the two of you can put his meat where his mouth is.”

It’s a testament to Rin’s insanely competitive nature that he does not even react to Nagisa’s continuous barrage of outrageous innuendo. It’s one of those things about Haru: no matter what the challenge is, be it something as huge as a swimming tournament, or something as insipid as a squid catching contest, rising to it is inevitable, and backing down is unnatural and perverse.

Rin points the stick of kielbasa a few inches away from Haru’s nose. “You are going _down,_ Haru.”

Haru narrows his eyes and brings up his own skewer to tap away Rin’s from his face, the two sticks of spiced processed meat briefly crossing in a way that is completely intrepid and manly and not at all alluding to any homoerotic metaphors or anything. “Don’t cry when you lose.”

“May the best sausage win,” Nagisa says solemnly, and thus, they begin.

*

Two hours later, they’re all spread out on the tatami mats of Haru’s living room, in various states of fullness and satiation. Nagisa insisted on putting Makoto in the unenviable spot of judging the products of Rin and Haru’s impromptu grilling contest, though everyone collectively agrees that he could’ve found a much better way to say it other than “which between Haru-chan and Rin-chan’s meat sticks packs the most juice, Mako-chan, do not lie now,” causing Makoto to choke on whichever he was taste-testing at that time. This of course, opened up more fodder for Nagisa’s seemingly relentless quest to be that friend who feels compelled to make sex jokes out of everything, which in turn, forced Rei to keep Nagisa’s mouth in a more or less permanent state of occupation by stuffing it constantly with food (which incidentally, also includes Rin-chan and Haru-chan’s juicy meat sticks so really, it boggles the mind why Nagisa couldn’t do the judging for himself.) In the end, neither of them won, because Makoto knew better than to actually choose between the two of them, and so they all just ended up enjoying the rest of the barbecue in relative peace.

At any rate, there had been no tears or accidental violence involved, so overall, Rin counts this as one of their more successful bonding activities.

Haru is currently showing Rei his picture books of beautiful bodies of water, while Rin occupies one of the cushions on the seiza table, shooting looks of longing in the direction of Haru’s bathroom where Makoto is currently washing his hands. Loathe as he is to admit it, Nagisa’s stupid innuendo has somehow wormed its way into his consciousness; he’s been itching to do something, _anything_ to Makoto since he started wowing Rin with his god of rock voice from the earlier karaoke session, and the fact that he’s been catching Makoto putting phallic objects near his mouth the whole day hasn’t helped a single bit.

“I’m going to thank you for your meaty contribution Rin-chan,” Nagisa whispers in Rin’s ear, and Rin jumps, almost making him stab the roof of his mouth with the barbecue stick. 

“I’m adding the word _meat_ to the list you’re no longer allowed to say in my presence,”  Rin hisses. “Along with sausage, coconuts, ice pops, and half the words that start with P.”

Nagisa ignores him, and leans in even closer, practically mushing his cheek on Rin’s, one of his arms slinging around Rin’s neck, in what Rin is pretty sure is one half of a sleeper choke hold. “I am very observant. I saw the looks you keep throwing Mako-chan while nibbling on your barbecue,” he says conspiratorially. “I can guarantee you twenty minutes.” His eyes slide over to Haru’s bathroom. “That should be more than enough to get your rocks off, hmm?”

“And what exactly are you implying with that?” Rin snaps, wondering for the nth time if his love-hate relationship with Nagisa is the universe’s way of fucking with him; if it has a voice, it just said: “ _I have heard your prayers Matsuoka Rin, and I have sent the antichrist to answer them_.”

“Nothing! Now hurry up before Mako-chan leaves,” Nagisa says, giving Rin a little shove and slipping what he’s pretty sure are relevant “supplies” into his pocket, before turning around towards his other friends. “Oh Haru-chan, Rei-chan, let me show you my new magic trick!”

Rin scowls, but stalks over towards the bathroom, deciding to take Nagisa’s gift at face value, consequences be damned. He’s still unsure whether or not he can live with the idea of following the dictations of Nagisa’s licentious scheming, regardless of whether or not it coincides with his own base needs, but fuck all of that; he’s hard and horny and the clock is ticking.

“Rin?” Makoto asks, surprised, as Rin steps inside, forcing Makoto to take a few steps back “Do you need to—“

Rin slides the door closed and locks it. “We have twenty minutes,” he announces, hands already working on Makoto’s belt buckle.

“… To get each other off?” Makoto asks in an almost disbelieving tone, even as Rin boldly presses his hips against him, in a bid to demonstrate his immediate need for affirmative action.

“No, to wash our hair,” Rin says, rolling his eyes, hands not stopping in their quest to divest Makoto of his pants post-haste. “It’s been a week. I have needs. Pants off.”

“Wait.” Makoto’s hand closes around Rin’s wrist. For a moment, Rin wonders if Makoto’s going to reject him, and spout some bullshit about propriety and desecrating Haru’s personal space, but it is swiftly relieved when Makoto smiles, and gently pushes Rin against the wall.

“I got this,” Makoto says with a wink, and drops to his knees.

“Fucking finally,” Rin mutters, and tips his head back. “Make it count, we’ve only got twenty minutes.”

“I will,” Makoto promises, and unzips Rin’s pants.

*

Rin finishes in seven minutes.

“That’s not fair,” he says, panting, knees weak. “You used fingers.”

Makoto wipes his mouth primly with some tissue. “We needed to hurry.”

“Nagisa gave us twenty minutes,” Rin points out, feeling annoyed at Nagisa’s stupid comment and the fact that it’s now true.

“I know,” Makoto says and stands up, carefully steering Rin towards the counter, in front of the mirror. He takes the condom he knows Rin is keeping in his pocket, rips it open with his teeth, and leans down to Rin’s ear level, lips slightly grazing his earlobe.

 “The other ten minutes,” Makoto whispers, in a low, husky voice that makes Rin’s toes curl in his shoes, “Are for _me._ ”

*

Twelve minutes later, Rin wobbles out the bathroom, biting the inside of his cheek in a bid to tone down the angel dust glow he’s pretty sure is emanating from his entire being, as an unfortunate after effect of achieving orgasm twice in less than twenty minutes.

His mind flashes back to himself bent over and grasping the counter, in front of the mirror, seeing both his and Makoto’s expressions as the latter systematically reduced Rin to an incoherent  wreck with each measured snap of his hips, the rough callouses of his palm providing the perfect textural contrast to—

Rin quickly derails his train of thought before he does something embarrassing like, god forbid, pop another boner (stupid teenage hormones) in full view of Nagisa, because otherwise he might accidentally commit homicide in Haru’s living room, and that would be inconvenient.

Good thing too, since Nagisa seems to have just finished his magic trick, which Rin suspects to involve some gross misuse of water, judging from Haru’s scowl.

“Where’s Makoto?” Haru asks, as Rin joins them.

“He went to his house to get something,” Rin answers, and winces when he sits down.

“Is he getting more food?” Nagisa asks innocently, like he hadn’t just willingly taken part in turning Haru’s sacred bathroom into a den of sin and debauchery.

“You had two burgers, a stuffed squid, 3 hotdogs, a pint of strawberry ice cream, and a whole melon bread,” Rei says, aghast. “How could you possibly still be hungry?”

“The magic trick was very tiring,” Nagisa quips, before making what Rin could only describe as theatrical eyebrow acrobatics in Rei’s general direction. ”Besides Rei-chan, I need the energy for later, you know, with the more complicated tricks involving the lordly staff of might and mag—mmph!“

“I apologize for being presumptuous about the state of your stomach Nagisa,” Rei says, as he retracts his hand, which has just deposited a strawberry mochi in Nagisa’s mouth. Damn, Rin has to give it to Rei— the guy's a genius; Rin would never have thought of using Nagisa’s voracious appetite and indiscriminate taste buds as a stop-gap measure to his endless stream of chatter.

“Rin are you feeling well?” Haru asks sharply all of a sudden. “You’re all flushed.”

Rin looks away, though Haru’s intense scrutiny only aggravates the heat creeping up his neck. “I’m fine.”

Nagisa swallows down his mochi. “He’s fine Haru-chan, that’s just the post-coital glow you’re seeing.”

Rin does his level best not to reach across the table and do painful things to Nagisa’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says through gritted teeth.

Nagisa chin-hands at him, sighing dreamily. “Seriously, I should put my botany project near you; it’ll probably bloom.”

It’s breath taking how little decency Nagisa has sometimes. Before Rin can formulate a scathing reply however, Makoto shows up again, a newsboy satchel slung over his shoulder. “Haru, you ran out of trash bags so I got some from my house,” he explains, and pulls out a pack of black plastic bags from his satchel before tossing them over to Haru.  

“How big are they?” Rin asks, glowering at Nagisa. “Can Nagisa fit in one?”

“Hey!” Nagisa protests, pouting. “Some friend you are—and this after I let you and Mako-chan sneak in a couple of rounds in the—“

“Oh goodness, look at the time!” Rei blurts out, rising to his feet and simultaneously yanking Nagisa up with him. “We’re going to miss the last train if we don’t leave now.”

Nagisa frowns. “But what about the clean-up?“

“Haru and I will take care of it,” Makoto answers a little too quickly, shooting Rei a grateful look before turning to his best friend. “Is that okay Haru?”

Haru raises an eyebrow. Makoto bites his lip and bows down sheepishly. Haru’s eyes slant towards the slightly open door of his bathroom, before looking back pointedly at Makoto. Makoto blanches. Haru purses his lips. Makoto nods vigorously and smiles. Haru sighs, makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, and grabs one of the plastic bags to get started on the cleaning.

Fascinating song and dance number there. Rin has no idea what the hell just happened. He’s aware of Makoto and Haru’s telepathy thing since they were kids, but he doesn’t recall it being this freaky. For all he knows, Haru could have just given Makoto permission to use his bathroom for illicit purposes in exchange for corresponding hours of housework.  Or Haru might have telepathically said _Really? This makes it what, the third time you guys banged because Nagisa told you to?_ and Makoto might have replied with something along the lines of _Who cares, I’m getting laid, and Rin’s sex sounds could revive the dead; also I hope you’re not too attached to that blue Sonic the Hedgehog towel- I promise to buy you a new one._ At any rate, Nagisa and Rei are not acting like this is anything unusual, so it’s unlikely he’ll ever find out now.

Makoto turns back towards them and holds a hand out to Rin. “I’ll walk you to the station, then come back to help Haru clean up,” he says, in a much more cheerful tone.

“You don’t have to,” Rin grumbles, but he takes Makoto’s hand all the same and hoists himself up.

 “I want to,” Makoto says, and adjusts the straps of his bag before turning towards Nagisa and Rei. “Let’s go guys.”

“Okay!” Nagisa all but launches himself at Haru for his customary bone-crushing parting hug . “Bye Haru-chan!”

“Thank you for your hospitality Haruka-senpai,” Rei says with a little bow.

“I still think I won that contest, for the record,” Rin insists, as he follows everyone out the door. “Mine was only a bit raw, and yours had way too many burnt wrinkly bits.”

Haru rolls his eyes. “Whatever Rin. Makoto choked on yours.”

“That had nothing to do with the kielbasa and everything to do with Nagisa being a little shit.”

“What do you mean it’s my fault, I thought we all agreed that that was Mako-chan’s karma for all the times Rin-chan suffered the same—“

“—Yes, we are leaving now, I’ll be right back Haru!” Makoto says loudly, and ushers all of them out of the house.

The four of them start walking towards the steps leading to the main road. Nagisa skips ahead of them, bubbling with excitement about spending the night at the Ryugazaki household, and Rei desperately tries to both catch up to him and implore him not to broadcast their plans in public.

 “Ah, not so fast Nagisa-kun!” they hear Rei call out, running farther ahead of them and grabbing Nagisa’s hand, presumably to stop him from cartwheeling down the steps. Much to Rin’s surprise, Nagisa actually stops, and leans against Rei’s arm, chattering aimlessly, their hands still tightly clasped together. Rei seems to be lecturing Nagisa about the dangers of running down stairs, but his eyes are soft, his voice stern but gentle, and despite Nagisa’s teasing about how Rei is being such a worrywart, it’s not hard to tell that he’s delighted about basking in Rei’s full attention.

A dull ache forms beneath Rin’s chest, and he tries to convince himself that it’s just heartburn due to excessive consumption of meat earlier. He sneaks a glance at Makoto, and sees him smiling serenely at his two friends, infected by their happiness.

Without meaning to, he steps a little closer, Makoto’s shoulder brushing slightly against his.

Makoto immediately turns to him, looking concerned. “Hmm? Something wrong Rin?”

There’s something, Rin knows, because he has felt this before, the sharp scrape of envy, tinged with bitterness, the feeling of craving something you don't know if you'll ever have; like how he felt when Haru beat him so easily without even trying, all those years ago. “Nothing’s wrong,” he answers tersely, and looks down, glaring at the jacket pockets currently warming Makoto’s hands. He can tell that Makoto’s not buying it, but the latter says nothing as usual, waiting for Rin to speak in his own time.

They walk down the street in silence. Twice, a stray cat catches Makoto’s eye, but he only stops long enough to scratch it briefly behind the ears, before resuming their trek. Several steps ahead of them, Nagisa picks up a lonely flower by the road and tucks it behind his ear, asking Rei if he finds it beautiful. They don’t hear Rei’s reaction, but the sweet, breathy giggle Nagisa makes after Rei whispers something to him is all the answer that they need.

“Nagisa and Rei are really cute, huh?” Makoto comments idly.

There are a myriad of ways Rin could respond to that. The simple answer would be “Yeah.” A more Rin-type response would be “Sure, if you discount the fact that Nagisa is a public menace.” Or even a mild disagreement: “No, what the fuck, haven’t you been listening to Nagisa talk this whole evening?” Instead, what comes out of his mouth is:

“I’m not cute.”

Makoto looks like he got the rug pulled out from under him, and Rin kind of wants to crawl into a dumpster and attempt to kill himself with sheer mental will. He doesn’t recall being this stupid and socially inept before, and now, Makoto is drawing away from him, wearing that kicked-puppy look that makes Rin feel like the worst sinner to ever walk the earth.

Maybe it’s out of desperation to save face (at the risk of sounding even more insipid) or a temporary fit of insanity that he actually adds: “I’ve got dragon teeth, remember?”

His voice is a little loud (and a tiny bit hysterical), and he immediately checks to see if it reached Nagisa’s hearing range. The last thing he needs is to have Nagisa take a crack at him and complete this epic self-defeat on all fronts but luck seems to be on his side this time, and Nagisa’s too busy whispering what are surely dirty things in Rei’s ear to notice Rin’s moment of disgrace.

Makoto’s expression breaks out into an amused smile. Rin’s not sure if Makoto’s amused with Rin’s lame attempt at a joke, or if he’s amused because he’s maybe thinking that Rin himself is a huge fucking joke (Rin’s definitely feeling more like the latter) but he steps closer again, and Rin breathes a little easier. “I prefer shark teeth,” he says. “And I disagree.” He glances sideways at Rin, and actually _winks_ at him. “You _are_ cute.”

Rin’s standard protocol for anyone calling him cute to his face is to maul them with a sharp object and then summarily shove them headfirst towards the nearest hard surface, but he’ll make an exception this time. Makoto’s proven to be an exception to many things lately anyhow. “How dare you,” he scoffs instead, his tone harsh but without any real ire. “Bunnies and kittens are cute. Babies are cute. Sanrio products are cute. Heck, Nagisa is cute, as long as he doesn’t open his mouth.” He kicks a pebble lying on the ground and watches it bounce and hit a fire hydrant, before rolling into the sidewalk drain. “Not me. I’m tough. I’m sharp. I can bench press my own weight.  I’m terrifying. I bite. Hard.”

“Yeah, I know that last part really well,” Makoto says wryly. Rin lightly punches him on the arm, and Makoto laughs, the sound of it filling the quiet spaces of the night with its richness.

“Rin-chan, Mako-chan, stop flirting and hurry up!” Nagisa calls out crossly at them. “Friendly reminder that some of us haven’t gotten any yet tonight!”

Rin distantly hears Rei making wretched sounds of mortification and feels a bit sorry for him. “Friendly reminder that that’s not our fucking fault!” he half-shouts back, but he tugs on Makoto’s sleeve to make them move faster all the same. 

Again, they walk in silence, a little more briskly this time, and Rin takes a moment to enjoy the scenery. Rows of street lamps cast long shadows on the pavement as they walk by, and around them, the lights from porches and windows gradually flicker off, as families turn in for the night. Above them, the sky is dark velvet, pinpricked by a million constellations. Iwatobi is a small, sleepy town, and Rin appreciates how its night sky is vastly clearer, for the lack of too-bright city lights. It could even be romantic, in a quiet, understated way, and if only each slice of light came with even a drop of warmth to mitigate the cold of late November, it would be perfect.

As if on cue, a sudden breeze whips past them, red and gold leaves twirling in its wake, and the late autumn chill rakes across Rin’s exposed collarbones like spindly, ghostly claws. Rin shivers, and rubs his arms through the wool of his sweater.

Without warning, Makoto wraps an arm around Rin’s shoulders and pulls him close, causing Rin to almost stumble, breaking out of his reverie as he crashes against Makoto’s solid frame. He looks up, glaring. “What the hell, Makoto?”

Undeterred by Rin’s attitude, Makoto just squeezes Rin’s shoulder. “Even terrifying, not-cute creatures with shark teeth feel cold sometimes,” he answers, eyes twinkling. He gives Rin that subconsciously flirty, sunburst smile, the same one that unwittingly reduces females to a puddle of estrogen on the floor. It shouldn’t work on Rin because Rin is tough, scary and manlier than a sack of Y chromosomes, and yet despite the insane leg muscle exercises he’s been doing as part of his training, his knees feel traitorously weak, and he finds himself suddenly thankful that he’s leaning on Makoto’s massive bulk for discreet support.

“Tch.” Rin wrenches his gaze away, painfully aware of the flush of his skin, and resolutely stares straight ahead,  ignoring Nagisa’s hooting ahead of them. The thick fabric of Makoto’s jacket tickles his cheek, and he breathes in. Rin thinks that if warmth had a scent, it would smell like this: a heady mix of flowery fabric conditioner, citrus tones, and just a hint of clean sweat; in other words, it would smell like Makoto.

Makoto’s thumb is running lazy circles around the curve of Rin’s shoulder. It feels nice, being surrounded like this, Makoto’s soothing presence akin to sunshine curling around him, bright and warm. It makes him want to give back, so that this feeling is something they can share, and not only something that Rin takes from him.

And so, before he loses his nerve, he snakes his right arm around Makoto’s waist, takes another deep breath and leans closer, a scowl on his face, and a smile in his heart.

 

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am truly sorry for all the dick jokes guys, I promise cleaner things in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Makoto spoils Rin, Rin says something he immediately regrets and Nagisa makes bizarre videogame metaphors and then gets serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: The tone of the story will be a bit more serious moving forward, and will contain introspective and mildly angsty Rin.
> 
> Also, check out the [super rad fanart](http://thecojsz.tumblr.com/post/82407866730/oi-do-something-about-your-boyfriend-will-ya) the lovely [thecosjz](http://thecojsz.tumblr.com) from tumblr made for this chapter! <3

The four of them reach the train station with a few minutes to spare. Nagisa bounces on ahead with Rei in tow, shooting Rin a knowing look, which is then immediately explained when Makoto pulls Rin behind a pillar, a few good meters away from the rest of the waiting passengers.

“What?” Rin asks, leaning against the pillar as he watches Makoto rummage through his bag.

Makoto pulls out a messily wrapped package. “For you,” he says, beaming, and hands it to Rin.

Pleasantly surprised, Rin raises an eyebrow and reaches out to accept it. “What is this?”

“Open it,” Makoto urges.

Rin shrugs and does so. At first, he’s careful about removing the paper, peeling back the tape to keep the nice glossy wrapper intact, at least until Makoto himself makes an impatient noise to make him hurry up, and Rin proceeds to rip the paper away. His jaw drops when he sees what’s inside.

“Before you ask, no I didn’t buy it,” Makoto says.

Rin quickly changes his reaction from _you’re way_ _too young to be a sugar daddy_ to “Did you _shoplift_ it?”

“What— No!”

Rin almost laughs at the scandalized look on Makoto’s face, and looks back at the gift. The Monster Immersion in-ear headphones he had been lusting after in the music store earlier is in his hands, looking bright and sleek beneath their original packaging. The cord bundles are just a little bit sloppy—they look suspiciously repackaged actually, though the earphones themselves seem to be in brand new condition.

“Remember when I told you they had a raffle last week?” Makoto explains. “I won, and that was the prize I got. I used it a couple of times, but I don’t really run as much as you do, and I really prefer muffler headphones, so you can have it.”

RIn feels a surge of joy in his chest, so huge and real that his ribs can barely contain it.  And why would it?  He is now in possession of _Monster waterproof earphones_ , an accessory that will immediately improve the quality of his life by at least a factor of ten. It’s in lime green, which isn’t his favourite colour but who cares, it’s new, it’s free, and it’s from _Makoto_.

“Are you sure?” he asks, just to check. He fights the urge to pinch himself, because he’s still having a hard time believing that this day could actually become better than it already is.

“Yes I’m sure,” Makoto says, eyes twinkling. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Rin bites his lip, and holds the headphones close to his chest. “Damn, I don’t know what to say…”

Makoto laughs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “A simple thank you will do.”

“No no no, that’s lame,” Rin says, pouting. “I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘how many orgasms do you want for this?’”

Makoto blushes and looks around for any nosy listeners. “Rin!”

“Ten? Twenty? I’ll throw in extra topping privileges,” Rin continues, enjoying the way Makoto’s cheeks flush darker with each word. He steps into Makoto’s space, giving him his best predatory look. “Or I can bottom from the top, so you don’t have to do anything, it’s about time I tested the effects of my new leg training regimen anyway—“

“—How about a hug?” Makoto interrupts.

It takes a moment for Rin to process that, and he almost stumbles as he steps back. “A hug?” he repeats hollowly.

“Yeah. A big one. A long one.”

“A big, long— are you sure you’re talking about a hug?”

Makoto doesn’t rise to the bait, and smiles excitedly. “Yeah. Extra tight and warm too, the kind with shirt-clenching involved.”

“A big long extra tight hug,” Rin repeats slowly. He blinks. Distantly, he hears the rattling of rails, the flapping of tarpaulins, and the sound of Nagisa’s giggling and Rei’s undignified squawking, serving as dim background noise in his brain, as he processes the situation. All Makoto wants from Rin in return for bequeathing the most serious earphones Rin's ever had in his care is a _hug_ , flat out vetoing Rin's various bargaining chips of the carnal persuasion, in an unprecedented display of libidinous restraint, or possibly a tragic hormonal disorder. “Here? Right now?”

“Yeah.” Makoto tilts his head to the side. “Or are you not okay with it?”

“What—no, of course I’m okay with it!” Rin sputters. It’s not that Rin is opposed to hugging Makoto of all people; it’s just that Makoto’s never asked for something like this, and they’ve never appeared as anything more than good friends in such a public place. He wonders what kind of person that makes him, offering sex at a moment’s notice, but clamming up at the prospect of something as chaste as _hugging._

Then again, hugging can be a perfectly platonic activity; who the fuck cares if they’re in the middle of a train station and in Nagisa’s full view. There is no logical reason to be this nervous; hugging Makoto can’t ever be a bad thing because he gives _great_  hugs— that has to be one of the fundamental truths in the universe.

Decision made, Rin hastily stuffs his new earphones in his bag and wipes his curiously sweaty palms on his jeans. “Yeah okay, here let me…” He steps forward, his pulse racing for reasons he doesn’t want to think about right now, and smiles nervously as Makoto’s lips tug up in a joyful grin, his long beefy arms opening up to pull Rin in and —

Nagisa pounces on Rin from behind. “Too slow, the train’s here. Later, Mako-chan!”

“Ow, Nagisa, wait I haven’t—“ He cuts himself off when he sees the opening doors of the train (which he’s half convinced teleported into the station because he did not see it coming), Rei gesticulating wildly at them to hurry up.

Makoto steps back laughing, and waves them off, though Rin doesn’t miss the flash of disappointment on his face. “It’s okay.”

“Next time!” Rin shouts as Nagisa drags him through the doors, which are already starting to close. “I owe you! And thanks!”

Nagisa practically throws Rin onto a vacant seat. For a little guy, he sure is strong when he wants to be. “Whew, that was really close.”

Rin scoots a little to the side to make room for Nagisa. “I didn’t notice the train, sorry.”

“Seriously, how do you miss something this big?” Nagisa complains as he plops down beside Rin, and Rei opts to stand in front of him.

“I was distracted okay.”

Nagisa’s pout transforms into a lopsided grin, the type he usually wears whenever mischief is projected to be in his immediate future. “Distracted huh?” He then sidles closer to Rin. “Well, you did look like you were about to hug Mako-chan from joy —what’s up with that?“

“Shut it,” Rin says warningly, knowing it’s useless, and moves away until his shoulder is touching the wall.

Nagisa, of course, ignores him, and closes the distance between them, Rei automatically following like a shadow. “Damn, if a twenty-minute stint in the bathroom makes you behave so dopey, I wonder what a full bam-wham session would be like? Do you bring out your dancing shoes and break into song, as birds and little forest animals gather around you in a chorus of passionate feelings and—“

“—I said shut it, Nagisa,” Rin repeats, the bite in his voice mitigated by the fact that Nagisa’s ludicrous spiels are actually making his cheeks flare up. He looks to Rei for support, but Rei is busy reading something on his phone to notice or is purposely avoiding the conversation, enjoying this brief moment in time where he isn’t the person at the end of Nagisa’s invasive tendencies.

Nagisa doesn’t let up. “You owe Mako-chan ten what? Blowjobs?”

“None of your fucking business,” Rin growls, a little bit annoyed now. He notices the glossy wrapper peeking out of his bag and quickly stuffs it in before Nagisa can pounce on it, like he usually does around shiny objects.

Naturally, this doesn’t miss Nagisa’s sharp eyes. “Oh did Mako-chan give you a gift?”

Rin sighs and resigns himself to the fact that no amount of glaring and avoidance could dispel Nagisa of his unquenchable thirst to learn all sordid details concerning his friends' lives. He opens his bag wide enough to let Nagisa see. “He gave me a really good pair of waterproof earphones.”

“Aww Mako-chan is so sweet!”

“He noticed me checking it out earlier in the store,” Rin says, and allows himself to smile fondly, because Makoto deserves this much at least. “And it’s a nice coincidence that it’s the same thing he won in the raffle.”

“Really? Lucky~!" Nagisa exclaims, and loops his right arm through Rin's left, rubbing his cheek on Rin's bicep, in a move that is less about affection and more about squishing Rin against the wall to prevent him from escaping any further questioning. "So tell me more about your date!”

Rin doesn't fight him for once. “He took me to his friend's music store and gave me the Sennheiser Orpheus experience.”

In front of him, Rei perks up, looking up from his phone. “There’s an Orpheus in Iwatobi?”

Rin looks up, surprised. “You actually know what the Orpheus is?”

“My brother is what you would call a stereophile, and I have heard him mention it several times,” Rei explains. “You are quite fortunate, Rin-san, that’s a very rare opportunity.”

Nagisa tilts his head, looking curious. “It’s that good? What was it like?”

Rin grins and sits up, cracking his knuckles. “Well the engineering is top class, since it's a proof-of-concept piece," he starts. "We used vinyl records, so the music possessed some fucking _unbelievable_ sound clarity along with a wicked binaural effect…" He goes on a bit more about the technical workings of the Orpheus, while Nagisa nods excitedly, looking enraptured with Rin’s passionate exposition on the effect of tube amplifiers to a pair of electrostatic headphones and why it's basically the sickest shit ever. Finally he finishes with “… and yeah, fine, you probably can find better bass in more modern headphones, but nothing else comes close when it comes to analogue sound.”

Rei himself looks fascinated, and mildly envious even, no doubt enticed by the beauty of experiencing musical nirvana via 90's era technology.  

“That sounds awesome Rin-chan!” Nagisa exclaims, and Rin grins smugly, basking in the memory of his experience with the most exclusive sound system in the world. Then Nagisa squeezes Rin's arm, smiling brightly, looking at him with what seems to be a vague combination of cluelessness and suspense. “But what was it _like_?” he repeats.

Rin shares a look of mutual exasperation with Rei, and sighs, opting to explain this to Nagisa in terms he’ll understand. “Like an orchestra copulated with eighties rock and came in my ears.”

Nagisa gasps, awed. “So like, _eargasm?_ ”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Nagisa whistles. “Wow, Mako-chan sure spoils you a lot. I can’t imagine putting up with a grumpy chump like you all the time,” he says. Rin opens his mouth to counter that unjustified slur to his person but Nagisa speaks up again, interrupting him. “No wait, I can, but Rei-chan is super sweet and gives me strawberry ice cream, and nice massages, and lets me copy his math homework,” he adds, nudging Rei's legs with his knee, and Rei obligingly makes a reluctant but affirmative grunt in response. “What do _you_ do for Mako-chan?”

Rin's happy mood falters. The question is so sudden and disarming, he feels his hair-trigger defences rising up immediately. What he answers in reply is more reflex than truth.

“There’s no point comparing, because he’s not my boyfriend.”

He sees the poleaxed look on Nagisa and Rei’s faces, and _that’s_ when the impact of what he just said hits him, almost physically, like lack of sleep.

Oh _fuck._

Rei recovers first. “I... I beg your pardon?”

Rin manages to speak past the self-loathing currently constricting his throat. “Nothing’s official,” he says, his voice wavering just a little. _Shut up now, Matsuoka, god what is official even supposed to mean anyway, who the fuck coined that term, it’s so stupid and why am I still talking._ “I mean, we’re just… you know, screwing on a semi-regular basis.” He looks down, an unexplainable feeling of shame welling inside him. Offhandedly, he notices Nagisa's grip on his arm going slack.

Then Nagisa seems to snap out his shock, and he immediately disentangles himself from Rin as he stands up, almost knocking Rei aside. “Wait. Time Out.” He grabs at the train handle grip with both hands, and leans forward, staring incredulously at Rin. “So _what_ are you guys?”

Rin regrets opening his mouth and joining Nagisa on the train and just waking up today in general. He looks out the window, thinking of all the things he can answer that won’t entail digging himself into a deeper hole, and ultimately decides on the truth: “I don’t really know.”

It’s quite fortunate that death by disappointment is not a real thing, because the full force of Nagisa’s ‘ _are you fucking kidding me?_ ’ face could stop a horse’s heart. Rin clenches his jaw, hating how his mind is drawing blanks in his bid to supplement his pathetic clichéd answer, and decides to settle for another safe truth: “This whole thing was your idea, remember?”

Nagisa doesn’t even blink. “Yeah and you mean to tell me you haven’t moved on past that?” He looks genuinely upset. Rin’s not sure what to make of it, but he’d do anything to get out of this impending conversation, because he does not see it ending well for any of them, least of all him.

 _Are we supposed to?_ is at the tip of his tongue, but the question leaves a hollow feeling in his chest, and once again, he resorts to a simple truthful answer. “Yeah.” As an afterthought, he adds. “So?”

Rei must have sensed Rin’s discomfort because he actually puts his phone back into his pocket, indicating that he is aware of the rising tension between Nagisa and Rin, and is determined to mitigate it any way he can. He touches Nagisa’s back briefly. “Nagisa-kun, perhaps this isn’t the best place to discuss this.”

Nagisa ignores him. “So? _SO_? I can’t believe this.” He throws his hands up, in a gesture that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else other than utter exasperation. “All this time, I thought you’ve already reached point B, when you’re actually stuck in some redundant side quest halfway past point A.  How much more XP do you need before you proceed to the next stage?”

Rin blinks. It’s astonishing how little sense Nagisa makes sometimes. “What.”

“Do I have to do everything myself?” Nagisa continues, an almost manic gleam in his eyes as he points an accusatory finger in Rin’s direction. “You’re like an RPG character who keeps grinding —literally actually— without levelling up!”

Rin feels eyes turning towards their direction, and he wonders if he can pass off Nagisa as a recently released mental patient, should people start asking questions. “What the fuck —what does XP have to with this and what do you mean you have to do everything yourself?!”

“I mean, I know I started it Rin-chan, but you have to cut me some slack here, who do you think I am, some dungeon master pulling the strings on your quest to achieve optimal relationship status?”

“Uh.” Rin might be having a coronary. He’s not sure.

“You can’t just expect me to keep providing random encounters for you! I mean, I love you and Mako-chan a lot, but that’s too much, even for me.”

Every word coming out of Nagisa’s mouth makes Rin feel like his humanity is undergoing cosmic pressure. He scrubs a palm over his forehead, feeling a headache coming along. He has a vague notion of what Nagisa’s trying to say, but he’s not in the right frame of mind to comprehend Nagisa’s ludicrous extended metaphors at the moment. “Nagisa please, I can’t deal with your brand of crazy right now.”

“No Rin-chan, this is important,” Nagisa barrels on, his voice sounding higher and more impassioned, as he drives his final point home. “Your relationship with Mako-chan should be like Pokémon; it needs to evolve!”

Rin can’t take it anymore. “Stop it with the videogame metaphors okay, god, what are you, twelve?” he lashes out. His outburst garners him several pointed stares from the train’s other passengers but he’s beyond caring at this point.

Nagisa turns eerily quiet, and Rin immediately feels a sharp and icy sensation plummet down his spine. Discreetly, he throws Rei an inquiring look, and Rei’s responding expression pretty much tells Rin that he’s about to get owned in an excruciating way.

“Okay fine. So let me get this straight,” Nagisa says after a rather prolonged pause, his tone still light-hearted and playful, but with an underlying note of danger, like fluffy cotton candy stuffed with knives. “He gives you super expensive earphones, bakes you cupcakes, has sex with you on a more or less regular basis and goes out of his way to give you an experience very few people are privileged to. And he’s not your boyfriend?”

Rin sighs, all too familiar with Nagisa’s talent for cutting straight to the point, having been on the receiving end of it more times than what he feels is strictly necessary. Doesn’t mean it sucks any less though. He closes his eyes. His head hurts. He doesn’t want to fight, least of all with Nagisa. Heck, he’d rather paint himself red and face a charging bull than continue this line of painful questioning. “Look…” he starts, doing his best to suppress the aggression in his voice. “You know how the two of us started right?”

Nagisa throws him a disbelieving look. “Are you telling me you’re still fixated on Haru-chan?”

“No!” Rin replies almost immediately, grateful for finally saying something he doesn’t feel ashamed about. “I’m not. ”

“Okay. So what seems to be the problem?”

“There is no problem. Just because we’re not together in the way you and Speedo Glasses here are doesn’t mean it’s a problem.”

“So you're perfectly fine with your current status quo?” Rei asks cautiously, his hands slightly raised as if bracing himself to deal with whoever loses his shit first between the two of them.

“What’s wrong with that?” Rin says, and he hates how it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, like it’s something unnatural.

“Oh Rin-chan, you’re so full of shit,” Nagisa scoffs, because of course it figures that Nagisa would be extra perceptive on the one time Rin wishes he wouldn’t be. “Aren’t you supposed to be the romantic one, or was that just false advertising?”

This conversation is getting out of hand. Rin would give anything to be somewhere else right now, like stuck in quick sand, or wrestling crocodiles in Australia, or even dying in a ditch somewhere. His head is now actually throbbing, and Nagisa has just effectively proven that it is very much possible to get a migraine from frustration “That is neither here nor there,” he says, eyes narrowed up at Nagisa. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m having this discussion with you.”

Nagisa folds his arms and glares back coolly. “Yeah well, that makes as even, since _I_ can’t believe you only think of Mako-chan as a depository of your _dick_.”

Rin’s jaw actually drops. He knows Nagisa can be blunt, but that almost casual callousness is something he never saw coming. Even Rei touches his boyfriend’s arm, a low, stern _"Nagisa"_ issuing past his lips, in warning. Nagisa shakes Rei off but he doesn’t say anything else, just staring at Rin like he’s everything wrong with the world. Rin could tell that Rei is looking at him from the corner of his eye, no doubt recalling the last time he witnessed Rin reacting to provocation.

For a few moments, none of them speak, the tripwire tension in the air putting the three of them at a standstill. Rin stares at his hands. They’re shaking. He wonders why Nagisa’s words sting so much, when he’s displayed a far worse lack of tact in the past. Then he realizes how reductive it is, invalidating the delicate and as-of-yet undefinable bond forming between him and Makoto, one that is independent of Haru’s influence for a change. It hurts because things are _not_ that simple; Makoto is so much _more_ than that to Rin, and hearing his place in Rin’s world be belittled so cruelly feels a lot like a dropkick to the spine, a brutal pain that lingers.

“That’s not true,” Rin finally says, after a long hesitation. He hates the sound of his voice, choked and watery around the edges, lacking the regular spitfire that comes with his anger. But it’s not anger he’s feeling now—it’s more of a twisted knot of regret, hurt, and frustration, constricting his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Nagisa notices this, and his face softens. The tension in the air ebbs a little. “Okay, sorry that was out of line,” he admits quietly, looking contrite. He waits a few beats before straightening up, gazing at Rin cautiously. “But you know, Rin-chan, you’d be surprised at the things you find out when you stop pretending.”

Rin takes a deep breath and looks up calmly. “I’m not pretending.  I’m calling it like it is.” He twists his hands in his lap, and does his best not to waver under Nagisa’s scrutiny. “Makoto never said anything either.”

Nagisa is studying Rin’s face with an intensity worthy of drilling holes through thick steel, as if trying to gauge Rin’s sincerity, which is a moot point really, as Rin has never been as good a liar as he makes himself out to be. Finally, after another long pause, he speaks. “Mako-chan pretends about a lot of things,” he says, sharing a significant look with Rei before turning his attention back to Rin.

“But he’s never pretended about wanting to be with you.“

Rin’s next breath catches in his throat. He feels his eyes widen, and he hurriedly looks away, heat creeping up his neck as the meaning of Nagisa's words sink in. His mind flashes back to last week, on Rin's bed, when Makoto first brought up the subject of going out.

_(What, like a date?_

_You can call it whatever you like_.)

Neither of them admitted to it being a date (at least not to each other), but neither denied it either, and shitty disagreements with Nagisa aside, today has been a fantastic day, and Rin knows deep in his romantic heart that he will remember this as his and Makoto's first date, no matter what happens in the future. “Yeah but..." He catches the hitch in his voice before it comes out as raw emotion, and he swallows, willing the thickness to disappear.  _He's never admitted it outright so how can you tell?_ he wants to ask. But before he can try, the train slows down.

“Here's our stop," Nagisa says. He hesitates for a moment before leaning down and throwing his arms around Rin, resting his chin on Rin’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. Just. Have a little more faith in Mako-chan will you?” Before Rin can react, Nagisa extricates himself and bounds out the door.

Rei follows, but before he steps out, he pauses by the door and looks at Rin.

“Rin-san.”

Rin looks up warily.

Rei adjusts the strap of his backpack against his shoulder before meeting Rin's gaze. “You could be scared and do something about it. Or you could just be scared,” he says, the faintest upturn of his lips containing a tremulous sort of encouragement. The train doors start beeping, and Rei immediately hurries off after Nagisa.

 _I’m not scared._ Rin scowls, subconsciously staring at Nagisa and Rei's disappearing figures as the train departs for the next station. He wraps his arms around himself, crumpling the sleeves of his cotton shirt, suddenly hit by a stinging pang of loneliness. His mind flashes back to that missed moment in the train platform. _Warm tight hugs, the kind that has shirt gripping_ , Makoto said, with that easy-going smile, like Rin’s body with its sharp angular bones is the greatest thing to wrap himself around.

There’s an old lady and a foreign businessman sitting across him, looking at him with sympathetic gazes and it only occurs to him then that he’s actually tearing up. Angrily, he reaches up and wipes at his eyes before anything has the chance to fall.

 _I’m not scared,_  he repeats to himself.

Except that he is; he’s terrified of acknowledging the possibility of this relationship with Makoto becoming much more than what he originally signed up for, actually wanting it, and not being certain if he’s the only one who feels this way. It gives him more hope than he is willing to accept, and too much hope is dangerous. 

He opens his bag again and retrieves the earphones Makoto gave him. He removes it from its packaging, which is easy enough, given that it’s been previously opened, and Makoto’s not exactly the most meticulous of people. He unwinds the cord, and picks up his iPod, plugging the 3.5 mm jack in. Music has been instrumental to his survival in Australia, and it has become a habit for him to drown his surroundings in sound whenever things get too much for him to handle. He picks a purely instrumental piece—he doesn’t want to risk encountering coincidentally apt lyrics to serve as a background to his teenage angsting.

He selects “Those Who Fight Further” by the Black Mages, and lets the power of guitar riffs and the familiar tunes of classic videogame music blast through his ears, jolting quick bursts of sound energy through his veins. Rin has learned long ago that he’s a creature of energy, and calming himself down is admittedly something he's not very good at. When he’s agitated, he channels his energy into something else— usually throwing himself into training, transforming negative energy to positive energy. When he’s not in the right venue for physical exertion however, he tides himself over with heavy, aggressive music, usually of the symphonic rock variety, designed to pump him up no matter the situation.

As expected, the Monster in-ear headphones have excellent sound quality and balance, living up to all the hype. Rin can't wait to bring it to his next jog. Despite himself, he smiles, pleased with his gift, and gets his phone from his pocket to tell Makoto as much.

_< Tried the headphones- they’re great. I owe you a hug.>_

He pauses, presses backspace and starts over.

_< Tried the headphones- they’re great. I was serious about the orgasms.>_

-close message-

_< I really enjoyed today. Let’s go out again soon.>_

-close message-

_< What have you been telling Nagisa and the others about us?>_

-close message-

He takes a deep breath and types down a new set of words.

< _What am I to you? >_

His thumb hovers over the send button, hesitating. He hears Rei’s voice in his head saying, _What are you so afraid of?_

He presses. When he looks down, he doesn’t see a ‘Message sent’ notification, but another message from Makoto— he must’ve pressed down just as the message arrived. He swears under his breath, half-convinced that the universe holds a truly magnificent grudge on him, because of course, it figures that just as he summoned the courage to ask the hard-hitting questions, Makoto himself is the first to impede him.

 _< Just got back to Haru’s place for the clean-up. It’s pretty late, so let me know when you’re safe in your dorm okay? :D _ _>_

He stares at the message, noting the words _safe in your dorm_ and the innocuous smiley perpetually attached to Makoto’s texts. His smile widens, and he immediately feels lighter. Before he can decide on a reply however, the train comes to his stop, and he hastily stuffs his phone into his pocket and runs out the door, into the direction of the dorms.

It takes him fifteen minutes to get to Samezuka, the impromptu jog doing wonders to counteract the cold night wind and work out any lingering agitation left over from his and Nagisa's argument in the train. He’s just slipped past the security guard in charge of curfew when he receives another message.

_< Rin? Have you reached Samezuka?>_

“Yes mom,” Rin mutters under his breath. He remembers every message in his drafts folder, and all the things he wanted and failed to say. He thinks briefly about sending one of them before shaking his head, dispelling himself of the idea. Instead, he hits reply and types: < _Just got here. Thanks for the earphones again. > _and presses send.

Makoto replies almost immediately. _< You’re welcome! Good night. =^_^=_ _> _

Rin doesn’t reply, but he smiles all the way to his dorm room.

*

 

Rin gets up and punches his pillow a few more times. It’s currently eighteen minutes past twelve in the evening, a full hour since he came back, but he can’t sleep, restless, his mind still racing with thoughts that refuse to die down. Rei and Nagisa's words bounce like wayward bullets in his brain, a constant reminder of how much he still wants to know.

With a low growl, he grabs his phone, gets off the bed and makes his way out of the room, expertly navigating around Nitori’s chaotic detritus on the floor. He slips out, closes the door quietly, and walks towards the dorm lobby. He snorts when he sees the sliver of light coming from beneath the captain’s door, and hears the muffled sound of his laughter. He files this observation for future cannon fodder, the next time Mikoshiba gives him beef about staying up beyond curfew hours again.

The dorm lobby is just down the hall, so he reaches it by the time he has finished scrolling through his contacts. He finds Gou’s name, and sends a text.

 _< Gou. I’ll go home every weekend for the next month if you’ll spend this Saturday night with a friend.> _He presses send, and takes a seat on one of the couches.

He then scrolls to Makoto’s name, and stares at it for some time, wondering whether to call or text. His message alert starts up while he’s thinking though, and Gou’s selfie pops up on his screen, which surprises him because he expects his sister to be asleep by now.

_< Wow, seriously? You tell me you’re going home only to kick me out of the house?>_

Another guilt trip, today’s just full of them. Luckily, Gou's much easier to appease than other people.

_< It’s important. I’ll bake you your favourite dessert on Sunday to make up for it. And we can go shopping in the afternoon.>_

True to form, Gou’s next reply is a lot more positive than her previous one.

_< Oh alright! I’ll hold you on to that. See you on Sunday then, onii-chan!>_

Rin smiles softly, suddenly filled with fondness for his younger sister. At least no matter how much drama he gets from the Iwatobi boys, Gou will always be there to be that one shining ray of stability in the circus of his life. He makes a mental note to buy ingredients for her favourite lunch too.

_< See you. And go to sleep, why the hell are you still awake anyway.>_

_< You should sleep too! Goodnight! Xoxo> _

Part one done, Rin looks up Makoto’s name on his phone again, and before he can chicken out, he presses call. The phone rings several times, before Makoto picks up.

“Rin?” Makoto’s voice is foggy with sleep. More guilt claws at Rin, but he has to do this now before he loses his nerve.

“Are you free on Saturday night?” he asks quietly.

“… I think so? I don’t have anything planned… Why?”

 _Because Nagisa says I should treat our relationship like Pokémon, and also because Rei said I’m scared and I want to prove I’m not._ “Good. Because you are going to have dinner with me.”

There’s a pause at the other end of the line. “Come again?”

“Dinner. With me. I’ll be treating you to a four-course meal with steak.”

Again, that long pause. Rin feels a little annoyed, with a touch of panic. Had Nagisa been wrong about Makoto? Or is it just really that unbelievable that Rin can be a nice and generous person? “Oi, Makoto?” he prods, when Makoto doesn’t speak up.

“Yes!” Makoto blurts out quickly, his voice bursting with excitement. “It sounds fun!”

Rin bites back a sigh of relief, his uneasiness dissolving almost instantly at the happiness in Makoto’s tone. But really, _fun_? Does Makoto think this is some sort of play date? Four course meal _hello_. “It’s not just fun. This isn’t going to be some run-of-the-mill dinner with ramen. You are going to be partaking of steak. _Steak_. Real Angus _beef_ from Australia and you are going to _enjoy_ it. Because I’ll be serving you quality _meat,_ and none of that pansy-ass fish Haru insists on feeding you.”

“Wow! That’s grea—“

“I heard that Rin.”

“Waah Haru, I said go back to sleep!”

Rin almost drops the phone in his surprise. “You’re sleeping over at Haru’s house?”

“Yeah, we made a lot of mess, and by the time we finished the clean-up, it was pretty late so I just slept over.”

Rin tries his hardest not to take that out of context.  “I see.” The uneasy feeling is back again, and while he’ll never admit it, he knows that this is jealousy, ugly and toxic. He also knows that it’s not the jealousy itself that bothers him the most; it’s the fact that he knows exactly _who_ he’s jealous of this time; where perhaps a month ago, he’d still be on the fence on where his affections truly lay.

Things are changing. Rin is changing, and while he’s the type to adapt to change, this time, he wants it to be concurrent with someone else’s—this is one of the things he doesn’t want to be first at.

Rin hears Makoto coaxing Haru back to bed with words like “Yes Haru, I still like mackerel,” and “No Haru, my choking on Rin’s kielbasa doesn’t mean I’m not compatible with meat” and finally, “No we haven’t had a date in an indoor pool yet, but thank you for your suggestion, now please go back to sleep.” Rin hears more shuffling from Makoto’s end, before he speaks into the phone again.

“Sorry about that. Where were we?”

“Six thirty PM, my house,” Rin replies a little curtly. “Gou can give you directions, if you don’t remember where.”

“I remember,” Makoto says, and Rin can hear the wistfulness in his voice. “How can I not?”

How can Makoto not indeed. Rin closes his eyes and remembers sunny afternoons in his old room, helping Makoto with English homework, as some sort of thank you for going out of his way to give Rin a bike ride to his grandmother's house during school days. Sometimes, Haru joined them, when Makoto managed to convince him to, and on those times, Rin and Haru would jog, while Makoto would follow on his bike (he tried to join in the running once; he ended up wheezing halfway through, and Haru refused to leave him behind so they didn’t get very far). They were kids back then, the world was not so complicated, and Rin had smiled more freely, reveling in his friendships and the things it had given him: Makoto filled his heart with laughter, Nagisa filled his soul with confidence, and Haru filled his head with dreams.

“Rin are you still there?”

Rin shakes his head, clearing out the wave of nostalgia. “I’m here,” he says. “Sorry. So I’ll see you on Saturday then?”

“Yup, I’ll be there. Can’t wait!”

“Okay.” He wants to say something else, keep Makoto on the line a little longer, ask him all the questions Rin was afraid to text him, but the clock reminds him that he has less than six hours of sleep left before he needs to wake up for his morning training routine, and he doesn't think he can handle more emotional stress today. “That’s all I wanted to say," he lies. "Sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

“Hey I got promised a fancy dinner because of it,” Makoto replies with a soft chuckle. “So no problem. And you can call me any time, you know that Rin.”

He does. Rin grips his phone a little tighter. “Yeah, I know. Goodnight Makoto.”

“Goodnight Rin. Sleep well.” Makoto’s voice is a little breathy and tender, the type of voice associated with cuddling and hot cocoa. What Rin wouldn’t give to be in Haru’s place right now.

He presses end call, and gets up to return to his room.  _I’m not pretending_ , Rin thinks as places his phone back on his night stand, and quietly crawls back under the sheets, careful to not disturb Nitori. He presses his nose to his pillow, catches a faint whiff of Makoto’s shower gel scent from when he came around a few days ago, and tries not to think about Makoto leaving the same scent on Haru’s bed.

_And I’m not scared._

For once in his life, he doesn’t want to think about competing with Haru.

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not familiar with gaming terminology, grinding is the term used for repeatedly engaging in combat to gain experience points to level-up. 
> 
> Again, sorry this took so long- I ended up rewriting that scene on the train three times, and cutting out approximately 1k words of dialogue before I became satisfied with it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rin indulges in nostalgia and gives Makoto a serious reality check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I took so long with this chapter. Aside from January being what I affectionately dub “the month that was pulled from Satan’s asshole”, I rewrote this chapter from scratch, as I decided to change a major plot point from my original outline midway through writing. I think this is the longest chapter yet- around 7.8k words, so I hope it makes up for the month-long wait!

Rin slumps back against his pillows with a sigh, rolling his shoulders one after the other, feeling his tired muscles flex beneath his clothes, as he slowly pushes his feet and legs forward to stretch atop his bunk. Today has been particular punishing; a monstrous two-hour long chemistry exam right before the most brutal practice session of his life has left him physically and mentally drained, and possibly reduced to a sub-human state. He’s pretty sure this is what being undead feels like—he moves like one at any rate, sluggish and half-blind, and he’s sort of wishing for some new brains to replace the one his chemistry exam siphoned off his skull.

He picks up his phone, ready to rant to Makoto about his day, when it flashes a message: “Phone Memory Full.” He stares at it in disbelief for a good ten seconds, before hurriedly checking the apps that take up the most space. He discovers to his dismay, that his text messages and pictures folder have ballooned over the past few months. Further investigation tells him that 70% of his text messages are exchanges between him and Makoto, 20% from Gou and 10% from everyone else. 

His pictures folder is full of kittens, either extremely appetizing or extremely gross food, some selfies of Makoto, and the Iwatobi swim team in various stages of ludicrousness, ranging from unflattering pictures of Rei attempting non-butterfly strokes to blurred snapshots of Makoto dragging a half-naked Haru away from a row of fish tanks, to downright shameless shots of Nagisa attempting to fit a whole corndog in his mouth. He scowls; he’s usually more conscientious than this, and wonders how he let such sundry things accumulate.

He briefly considers deleting some of them, but it’ll take too much work to choose what he wants to keep and what he can do without. Also, he has grown rather attached to some of Makoto’s texts and pictures, though he’d rather chew off his own fingers than admit it out loud.

With a groan, he drags himself across the room and retrieves his laptop and phone cable to back up the files. He brings both items to his bed, sits up, and props himself up against the pillows as he impatiently waits for his laptop to boot. He flips through his phone messages in the meantime, feeling nostalgic all of a sudden. He selects a random conversation, dated sometime after he and Makoto decided to commiserate over Haru’s complete lack of interest in non-platonic relationships by doing… well, _each other_ , in a shocking plot twist that Rin sometimes still has trouble believing several months after the fact.

**[Wednesday, 1 September 2013]**

> **T. MAKOTO:** Sorry Rin, I don’t think I can stay after joint practice later; I have a huge English test to study for.
> 
> **M. RIN:** I see. Can’t help it I guess.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Yeah, sorry… ((´д｀))
> 
> **M. RIN:** Well, if you want, I can tutor you.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** …Really? You’d do that? L(・o・)」
> 
> **M. RIN:** You don’t have to act so surprised. You’re not a lazy prick like Haru so trying to teach you shouldn’t be too much of a pain.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** … Wow um, thank you!
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah no problem. Bring your stuff, I’ll tell Ai to vacate the premises.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Rin. (-___-)
> 
> **M. RIN:** What?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I really need to STUDY.
> 
> **M. RIN:** We WILL be studying. 80 or higher guaranteed or I’m your bitch.

Rin grins. Oh he remembers this all too well. Makoto’s test had been about adverbs, a topic so mind-numbingly easy, Rin couldn’t comprehend what it’s doing in secondary level education. Still, Rin takes tutoring seriously, and to prove it, he dressed for the occasion, welcoming Makoto into his room in a no-nonsense teacher’s attire, with a black long-sleeved polo, grey twill pants, polished leather shoes, and even horn-rimmed glasses. Indeed, he was very professional about the whole thing, and Makoto in turn, was an exceptionally attentive student.

Well, except for that bit where Rin bent Makoto over his desk, slid a paper fan up his thigh and asked him to use “excessively hot” in a sentence, which made Makoto unable to form a coherent string of words, thus forcing Rin to dole out punishments of the wildly imaginative, corporeal sort for correctional purposes.

(Makoto reported a stunning 94 on the exam. Needless to say, English tutoring became kind of a thing, and Rin bought a second pair of glasses, when Makoto accidentally broke the first one in his excitement during one of the mock, ah, _oral_ exams.)  

His laptop finishes booting, and Rin plugs in his phone. The phone’s program launches, and he begins the backup process. One by one, each conversation is neatly transferred to his secret folder labelled _boring-ass text_ which is a subfolder of _seriously boring readings_  which is yet another subfolder of _Don’t click, contents induce snoozing_ under the D partition drive.  

He selects another short conversation from the transferred files. This time, it’s about Makoto returning the favour for Rin’s tutoring by helping Rin research and compose his Ancient Japanese Literature essay, which, for all of Rin’s studiousness and attention to detail, did an admirable job of crushing his will to pursue higher education (mainly because it’s his worst subject, and mostly because ancient Japanese Literature was written exclusively in Chinese characters and trying to just _read_ them feels a lot like pulling teeth). Fortunately, it happened to be Makoto’s best subject, thus making his expertise and assistance invaluable to Rin’s academic ambitions. While Rin was fairly certain he could have finished everything on his own, give or take several hours of sleep and ditching swim practice, having his personal cheering squad who did more than half the dirty work was a convenience he definitely appreciated.

**[Sunday, 6 October 2013 23:26H]**

> **M. RIN:** I’m sorry I kept you up so late. You got home okay?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Yeah, don’t worry about it Rin. I’m just glad we made it before your deadline.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah, you’re a life saver seriously. Get some rest okay, because I’m pretty sure I’ve had swim practices less exhausting than this.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I will, in a bit. I’m just finishing up on my own reading.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Wait, you mean you have other stuff to do?!
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I do, but it’s not a lot!
> 
> **M. RIN:** Makoto, I asked you if you had any schoolwork of your own you had to do, and you said no!
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** But it’s not THAT important. I’m fine Rin. Besides, you have your top 10 standing to take care of! (^～^)
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah, but I told you, you’re not obligated to repay me for the English lessons, because I wanted them as much as you needed them.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Rin, believe me, I did not feel “obligated” to do it. I WANTED to do it.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Seriously? You’re so weird. I mean, NEGL, I wanted to teach you English because I got something out of it. You knew this essay would give us both headaches, so why did you still want to do it?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Because it’s important to you.

Rin smiles softly at the memory. Makoto’s incomparable kindness has always been both his greatest strength and worst weakness, and he understands why Haru is so protective of it. It's always a humbling experience to be at the receiving end of it, so Rin has always tried to repay him via little gestures, like reading over his English and math homework without asking, encouraging joint practices with his own team to keep the Iwatobi gang (and most importantly, Haru) from slacking off throughout the off-season, or indulging him with his favourite chocolate treat on special occasions. 

Speaking of chocolate... He sees the date for Makoto’s birthday and clicks on that next.

**[Sunday, 17 November 2013. 22:34H]**

> **T. MAKOTO:** Thank you for the birthday greetings, you sounded very enthusiastic.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Whoa who gave you the gift of sarcasm, I need to congratulate them.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I’m not sure really, I don’t know any sarcastic people I frequently hang out with that could possibly influence my way of speaking. ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)
> 
> **M. RIN:** 5/10 for effort, but sorry I'm not biting.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:**  Lol. Seriously though, thanks. I was so touched. (　＾∇＾)
> 
> **M. RIN:** Whatever. I don’t really get why you’re thanking me for my exuberant well-wishes when I just gave you a hot evening date with two sweet men.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Oh yeah, I’m currently enjoying Cadbury right now. I’m saving Royce for later—he melts too easily if you don’t eat him up right away.
> 
> **M. RIN:** You’re making shameless baiting remarks about your food. Who are you and what have you done to Makoto?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** You act like I don’t know how to flirt. And I was following your lead.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Are you calling me a flirt?!
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** No, I’m saying that maybe you’re just rubbing off on me. :p
> 
> **M. RIN:** Well, we do spend a considerable amount of time in constant bodily friction with each other. Theory accepted.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** That sounds like something Rei would say.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Well we do have that running and studying thing every week. Heh, maybe HE’S rubbing off on ME.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Not in the same way as we do I hope.
> 
> **M. RIN:** What of course not what the fuck.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Just checking. But anyway, I’m glad to hear that Rin. I’m so happy you guys are getting along!
> 
> **M. RIN:** Meh, he’s not bad. A bit of a pompous jerk, but he actually makes for intelligent conversation. And he’s decent at land training.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** He was a former track member you know.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah, he has the legs for it.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Oh yeah, he totally does.
> 
> **M. RIN:** He’s a total noob in the water but his running form is pretty impressive
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I know right? It’s distracting sometimes, especially since I’m always behind him when it comes to the running segment of training.  
> 
> **M. RIN:** Okay, I realize that this entails admitting that I have actually fallen behind him but yes. Yes, I know what you mean. FML, I can’t believe we’re both perving on Speedo Glasses, this is so surreal.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I don’t think there’s anything wrong with appreciating someone else’s physique.
> 
> **M. RIN:** As long as you don’t appreciate it in front of Nagisa.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Good point. I like living.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah. Besides, Rei’s physique isn’t the only thing going for him.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** Well yeah, he’s knowledgeable about a lot of things. And he takes his studies very seriously!
> 
> **M. RIN:** Yeah okay whatever, but his other selling point for me is his room.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** His… room?
> 
> **M. RIN:** It’s conducive for studying. Which is a fucking relief, because I swear, Ai’s side of the room  just passed ‘trash heap status’ and dived straight to ‘certified disaster zone’
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:** I thought it was just his desk.
> 
> **M. RIN:** No, its reach has spread. Like an ambitious fungus.

Rin shakes his head and glances at said desk. It’s overflowing with books and papers and bizarre miscellaneous items Rin doesn’t want to know about. After stumbling into that umbilical cord in a box, he’s been careful not to poke even the most harmless looking things amidst his roommate’s pile of material chaos.

He goes back to the list of conversations, and his gaze lands on a particularly massive exchange, which is also fairly recent, the week after Makoto’s birthday.

**[Saturday, 23 November 2013, 13:28H]**

> **M. RIN** : Nagisa is in my dorm room right now, scattering potato chip crumbs on my bed and complaining about you being a boyfriend-stealing infidel. Explain.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Rei and I are shopping for a glasses case for me, and prescription goggles for him.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Good for you. But why does it necessitate inflicting Nagisa upon ME?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : We didn’t have anything to do with it; he decided to visit you on his own.
> 
> **M. RIN** : But why me? Why couldn’t he bother Haru instead?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Because I’m taking his boyfriend out for the afternoon, and so he thinks that it’s only fair that he spends his afternoon with you. You know how his concept of justice works.
> 
> **M. RIN** : So he’s punishing you, by punishing me? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : He’s not punishing you Rin, he’s trying to hang out with you. Nagisa is fun to be around with- you just need to step out of your mind set that he exists solely to torment you.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Oh yeah? What part of hanging out entails going through my things and making some running derisive commentary on them?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:**  Oh come on, he’s not that bad.
> 
> **M. RIN** :  He just unearthed where we keep the bag of kink.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Throw him something shiny to distract him.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Let me go polish a knife.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Rin, no. 
> 
> **M. RIN** : He just insulted our choice of brands. Can you believe the nerve of this asshole.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Insulted, how?
> 
> **M. RIN** : He’s going on about imported Swedish lubes that ‘carry the scent of ripe apricots’  and ‘texture so smooth your dick will feel like silk’ etc etc. Texture and scent, what the fuck does he think he is, some some sort of lube connoisseur?
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Lube connoisseur.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Yeah. He says the brand we use sucks because it’s what doctors use for anal ultrasounds TYSM Nagisa for sucking the sexy out of everything.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : How does he know so much about brand diversity of illicit items, he’s a high school freshman.
> 
> **M. RIN** : He just told me that his eldest sister married the owner of a popular sex shop in Tokyo.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : That… explains a lot.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Yeah. Fuck, now I can’t kill him. He’s actually going to be useful once I become legal.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Rin. (-___-)
> 
> **M. RIN** : What? You were totally thinking it too.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I was not!
> 
> **M. RIN** : Oh please. Keep pretending. I know all about your dark kinky depths.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m so vanilla, I redefine the word.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Only half true. You’re vanilla in the streets, rocky road in the sheets. (¬‿¬)
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** :. (>///<)
> 
> **T. MAKOTO: …** You make me sound delicious.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Well, I’d rather have you than ice cream.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : But you don’t like ice cream.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Exactly.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : …I have no idea how to take that.
> 
> **M. RIN** : What’s to understand? You > ice cream.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Hold on, Nagisa’s messing with my laptop.
> 
> **M. RIN** : OH FUCK HE FOUND MY MAID COSTUME PICTURES.
> 
> **M. RIN:**  I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER SAVING THESE HERE WHAT THE FUCK.
> 
> **M. RIN:**  That’s it, I don’t care if Nagisa gives me discount coupons for imported lube, you’re helping me dispose of his body later.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : … You have maid costume pictures?! ٩(^ᴗ^)۶
> 
> **M. RIN** : Not anymore, and that’s not the point!
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : What? But I want to see them!
> 
> **M. RIN** : Too late, I just deleted them.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : NOOO. </3 
> 
> **M. RIN** : They never existed, you hear me? NEVER.                    
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Well if they never existed, then that means Nagisa never saw them, therefore you can’t kill him.  (￣ω￣)
> 
> **M. RIN** : … Fuck your stupid logic with a fucking violin bow.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : If you hate them so much, why do you have a copy?
> 
> **M. RIN** :  Ai asked me to store some of his files in my laptop when his computer gave out. He must’ve forgotten to delete them. I am so going to chew him out when he gets back.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:**  I’m sure it was an honest mistake Rin, don’t be too hard on him.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Easy for you to say. Put on a fluffy dress and make Haru take pictures and then we’ll talk.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:**  Haha… uh, BRB have to help Rei out with something.
> 
> **M. RIN:**  Oh my god, now he’s lecturing me about ROLE PLAYING why is this my life.
> 
> **M: RIN:**  Now he’s looking up examples in the internet.
> 
> **M. RIN** : There is now “Butter Me Up: French Maid Trap Saga” in my search history.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Guess what it’s about.
> 
> **M. RIN** : It’s about a cross-dressing boy getting buttered up. Literally.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Seriously, I counted 5 sticks of butter in here.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Nagisa says he looked it up because it reminded him of me, which is utter bullshit because the only thing this guy and I have in common is red hair. He doesn’t even have abs. What a wuss.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Oh hey wait a minute, the butler porn actor looks like YOU.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Even down to the package proportions, holy shit. Do you have some secret life you’re not telling me about?
> 
> **M. RIN** : You know, I hate to admit this, but this porn is actually pretty decent.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Wait never mind, they’re using butter as lube; that can’t lead to anything good.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Wow, I leave my phone alone for fifteen minutes and the first thing I read is porn.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Butter as lube is a terrible idea. (> . <)
> 
> **T. MAKOTO:**  Also, I don’t have a secret porn star life.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Yeah, I took another good look at the actor and he’s not even half as bara as you. Still, brown hair green eyes, big dick, really big hands…
> 
> **M. RIN** : Fuck, I’m hard.
> 
> **M. RIN** : And Nagisa noticed.
> 
> **M. RIN** : He’s making smarm brows at me.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Kill me now.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Now who’s the boyfriend stealing infidel.
> 
> **M. RIN** : If you’re implying that I am, in any way, going to seduce Nagisa just because he showed me good porn, I am going to kill you. After I kill Nagisa. Painfully. With a staple gun.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : That’s not what I meant at all!
> 
> **M. RIN** : What did you mean then? Also, you should probably warn Rei that Nagisa is downloading shibari technique manuals into his phone, and I am telling you, this will only end in tears.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I don’t want to tell Rei that, that’s a breach of privacy.
> 
> **M. RIN** : And Nagisa sequestering my laptop to look up porn is not?!
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I don’t want to embarrass Rei.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Why not, it’s not like he’s not used to it.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Wait that was a douche thing to say, don’t tell him I said that.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I won’t. Hey listen Rin, I really need to discuss something with the optometrist, I’ll text you later.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Fine, be like that. Leave me alone to deal with the master of disaster while you and speedo glasses get your geek on.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : You can do it, I have faith in you. (★^O^★)
> 
> **M. RIN** : Whatever. If you don’t hear from Nagisa today, assume I killed him.

**[23 November 2013, 16:27H]**

> **M. RIN** : Where are you now? Nagisa is STILL here.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : We’re almost done. Rei wanted to eat chapchae at this new Korean place. Their kimchi’s really good.
> 
> **M. RIN** : You’d better bring me some after you guys are done.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Wait, are you expecting me to go to Samezuka after this?
> 
> **M. RIN** : Duh, Rei needs to pick up his demonspawn boyfriend and _you_ need to remove said demonspawn’s taint from my person.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : But Rin, I didn’t plan this… I might need to go home and babysit the twins.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Get Haru to do it. He loves the twins almost as much as you do.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : Yeah, but it’s not nice to impose this on him all of a sudden.
> 
> **M. RIN** : I’ll ask him for you if you want.
> 
> **M. RIN** : Come on. I want kimchi. And your dick.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : … Let me think about it.
> 
> **M. RIN** : I’ll restore the deleted maid pictures from the recycle bin.
> 
> **T. MAKOTO** : I’ll be there in 30 minutes
> 
>  

Rin snickers at the screen. That was just last week, and it led to Makoto asking him out for a proper date in a roundabout manner, so in a way Nagisa being a pest had brought about good things.

He backs up the pictures folder next. As he watches the little folder icons accepting tiny paper icons, he thinks about how far he’s come. It’s actually pretty amazing how much things have changed since he and Makoto first started this strange arrangement. At first, he was still cautious, focused on nothing but the physicality of things, treating it as another aspect of the friendship he’s trying to repair. Finding the self-esteem to open up again isn’t an overnight process, and even Makoto, for all his transparency, still has things to tell. 

Eventually though, this changed over time. Little by little, Rin exposed more pieces of himself, both the ugly and the beautiful: from the tiny core of rage he’s been trying to extinguish, to the fact that he does get insecure and lonely at times, and how he can never thank Haru and Rei enough for what they did for him: the former for seeing something in him that was worth saving, the latter for seeing something in him worth sacrificing for. It felt like a huge burden was lifted from his chest, the moment he realized he was comfortable enough with Makoto to casually tell him even about the embarrassing details of his life. 

He exits the conversations folder and looks at the freshly backed up pictures next. The first one is a picture of a picture frame, containing a photograph of Rei and Nagisa. He vaguely recalls Nagisa sending it to him out of the blue, with the message “Mine and Rei-chan’s first framed photograph!” He remembers seeing this in Rei’s room, placed on the right side of one of the shelves above his bed, next to his night lamp. It’s the one thing that looks out of place in the otherwise stern appearance of his room, which is designed in muted colours of grey and black.

The picture frame’s colour scheme, on the other hand, looks like a Lisa Frank pony ate a box of crayons and vomited all over it: bright pink and orange with streaks of yellow—Nagisa’s choice without a doubt, though Rin suspects the purple butterfly carving at the corner was Rei’s addition. The picture inside doesn’t even seem like something special—it’s just Nagisa latching on to Rei from behind, and attempting to feed him a mochi the size of his fist. Rin has always wondered what Rei was thinking when they decided on that picture. It wasn’t exactly flattering on Rei’s part, with his eyes wide in surprise, mouth hanging open, pink bits of sticky rice pastry on his upper lip.

But then again, maybe it’s not something for him to understand. Maybe there’s something there that Rin isn’t seeing, something beautiful that is between Rei and Nagisa alone, a sight that only Rei can show Nagisa. He’s genuinely happy for them, and sometimes a little envious, but he’s no longer bothered. He knows (he hopes) that after enough time, he’ll be seeing something similar too.

As he clicks the next picture (Makoto covered in kittens, the photo file juvenilely renamed to 'pussy magnet'), his phone starts ringing, and he sees Makoto’s name flashing across the screen. He hurriedly unplugs his phone and presses the call button.

“Hey,” he greets almost breathlessly, grinning as he continues browsing the pictures folder.

“Hey Rin,” Makoto says, and Rin can hear the smile in Makoto’s voice. “I heard from Mikoshiba-san that you had killer training today.”

Rin snorts, and clicks on the next picture (Pussy Magnet Makoto turns into a picture of Haru hard at work, carving more of those ugly Iwatobi-chan wood mascots). “Killer is an understatement.”

“That bad huh?”

“Yeah, I am actually dead right now and I am speaking to you from my watery grave beneath the pool.”

“…Rin, that’s not funny.”

 _Fuck._ Rin bolts up from his leisurely slouch on the bed, the top of his head almost hitting the bottom of Nitori’s bunk. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He curses himself internally for his carelessness. He must be more tired than he originally thought, if he goes around making drowning jokes to the one person who couldn’t take them. “I’m really sorry,” he repeats for good measure.

“It’s okay, I know you were just joking. Besides, I’m probably just being too sensitive…”

Rin frowns at the apologetic tone in Makoto’s voice. “It didn’t get better after all these years huh?”

“Actually it is,” Makoto says, cheering up a bit. “I mean, I was able to swim in the ocean for our training camp you know! Baby steps.”

Rin snorts. “If the baby in question is Godzilla maybe, are you kidding me? That’s a huge thing. I was actually surprised you were okay with that.”

Makoto chuckles. “I had my inhibitions, but it wasn’t so bad,” he says thoughtfully. “Well, except for that minor miscalculation on the first night of the camp, but I was swimming with my friends again so I felt okay.”

Rin’s brow furrows, his attention stuck on one particular word. “What miscalculation?”

There was the shortest of pauses from Makoto’s end, but when he speaks, his voice is casual, the same tone he uses for bright, unfocused chatter. “Oh didn’t Gou-chan tell you?”

“We didn’t exactly talk a lot before the regionals.”

“Well, it was really no big deal,” Makoto insists, still sounding carefully nonchalant.

Rin will have none of it. “If it’s no big deal, then tell me.”

This time Makoto actually hesitates for a full five seconds, which only fortifies Rin’s curiosity, and feeds his gut instinct that there’s more to this ‘miscalculation’ that Makoto is letting on. “Well, basically Rei and I kind of got in an unpleasant situation in the storm but Nagisa and Haru managed to get to us before anything too bad happened,” he says. “We ended up on this island with the abandoned rest house, and looked at stars the whole night, so we actually slept half the day after we got back to the island because we were so tired.”

Rin frowns. He’s been with Makoto long enough to recognize his evasive answer manoeuvre—spilling out the crucial bits in a rush and covering it up with sundry details to hide its importance. Unfortunately for Makoto however, Rin’s not one of the top 10 students in his year for nothing. “Makoto, the storm was at night. Are you telling me that you, that guy with the ocean phobia, and Rei, that guy who only recently figured out how not to sink, went swimming in the ocean at _night_?”

Rin is sure Makoto’s wincing over on his end of the phone right now. “Look, I know it sounds stupid—“

“—Damn right it’s stupid, you might as well have tied bacon to your balls and waltzed naked into a den of starving jackals—“

“—But Rei only wanted to catch up with the rest of us!” Makoto says, his voice rising a little, pleading. “He was feeling bad about not meeting the demands of our training regimen, so he thought he could sneak in some extra practice while the rest of us were asleep.”

“What? Okay, putting aside that fact that while I admire his tenacity to improve himself, it's still a dumbshit move, you mean to tell me he went into the ocean without supervision from _any_ of you?”

“Well he didn’t want to bother us you know, so he went on his own,” Makoto argues, though his tone is placating, obviously going for an approach that would not agitate Rin further. “And then the storm made landfall, which woke me up. Rei wasn’t there, so I left the tent to look for him, and …” Here Makoto pauses, and Rin feels a twinge of guilt for making Makoto relive what is obviously a traumatizing memory. “There was a lightning flash, and I saw Rei out in the ocean, calling for help.”

Rin rubs his temples, knowing where this is going. “Fuck. And let me guess, you tried to save him.”

“Yeah… I kind of overestimated myself. I thought I could save him, I was swimming fine,” Makoto answers. Again, he pauses, as if trying to measure his next words. “But then, I saw him struggling, looking terrified and helpless… and I kind of just… froze.”

Rin stays silent, wishing he didn’t have to find out like this, over the phone, with nothing to offer for Makoto’s comfort. But he can’t do anything about it now.

Makoto keeps talking. “I don’t remember much of what happened. I passed out . When I woke up, I was on one of the islands, and Haru was about to give me CPR.”

Rin clenches his fist around his bed sheets. He remembers waking up that night, noticing the storm, thinking of Makoto, then going back to sleep, and just the thought that he’d been awake and unconcerned at the same time Makoto was so close to _dying_ made him physically ill. If the feeling of terror still grips him now, several months after the fact, he couldn’t imagine what Makoto felt. Or Haru. God, Haru must have been out of his mind with fear or worry, probably both. If Makoto didn’t wake up that night…

No. Rin refuses to think about it, or he might actually run the risk of throwing up at this point. Instead, he looks at the next picture of Makoto he transferred to his laptop, taken from Makoto’s birthday, comforting himself with the knowledge that Makoto survived and went on to celebrate another year of his life.

“Were you hurt?” he asks quietly, as he studies Makoto’s laughing face, bits of red and blue confetti on his hair, as he happily accepted the huge slice of chocolate cake Haru baked for him.

“Not really. I swallowed some sea water but that’s basically it.”

“Well, I’m glad Haru was there,” Rin says, and means it.

“Yeah.” Makoto’s voice turns softer, thick with emotion. “He saved me. I don’t know how he heard me that night, but he did, and he saved me. I probably wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for Haru.”

Rin is disgusted with himself for the twinge of jealousy he still feels at the affection with which Makoto says Haru’s name. This isn’t the time for his stupid rivalry with Haru. This isn’t about him or Haru at all. This is about Makoto and how he’s opening up one of his biggest fears to Rin, in a way he didn’t all those years ago, when it was Haru who almost drowned in the water. Another conversation bringing about another milestone.

“What happened to Rei?” he asks, distracting himself from his brief relapse into self-loathing. Makoto finally opened up to him. He’s going to make it count.

“Nagisa saved him, and we actually landed on the same island,” Makoto answers, his tone reverting back to its usual mellow timbre, back to normal. “We spent the night at this abandoned rest house, with this scary refrigerator. No one wanted to open it and Rei…”

Rin nods as he listens to Makoto ramble more about the Iwatobi swim team’s misadventures, letting the sound of his voice wash over his head, calming down the storm brewing inside him. He wishes he could stop feeling so strongly about this, but it’s difficult when Makoto seems hell bent in making it seem unimportant. _It’s no big deal_ , he said. Ha. What a joke.

“In the end, it turned out okay,” Makoto continues. “But I wish there were things I did better.”

“Yeah, things like not jumping into the ocean in the middle of a storm,” Rin says, barely leashing his irritation at that one detail.

“No, I mean, if only I just wasn’t so weak, I wouldn’t have to endanger more people.”

Rin’s grateful that Makoto couldn’t see him over the phone because his mouth just dropped open in what he’s pretty sure is an undignified and unattractive manner. He could hardly believe it. “Are you blaming _yourself_ for what happened?”

“Who else would I blame?” Makoto says, like any other answer is unthinkable, and Rin hates how his tone is not even hesitant, almost as if he’s taking it for granted that this burden is his to bear and _his_ alone. “I’m the team captain, and I’m responsible for all of them, of course it was my fault it happened."

Rin’s jaw opens and closes a few times, before he finally gets a word out. “Unbelievable.”

“Why? It’s true,” Makoto says, sounding confused.

“You tried to save Rei despite having crippling fear of the ocean. How is that making you feel guilty?” Rin fires back, feeling both incredulous and angry all of a sudden.

“Well, I wouldn’t need to save him, if I had been more considerate of the training we’re undertaking!” Makoto answers, actually sounding defensive now. “I should’ve been more insistent that Rei follow a less intense program. I should have known that Rei would feel bad about not catching up with all of us.”

 _I should have I should have I should have._  Makoto refuses to look at his own selflessness to focus on the things he failed to do, and it makes Rin so _angry_ that he couldn't quite stop the next spiteful words from flying out of his mouth. "God, will you stop being such an egotistical bastard?!”

The shock in Makoto’s voice is impossible to miss. “… Excuse me?”

Rin admits that it wasn’t the most appropriate set of words, but the sentiment stands. “You heard me. People who blame themselves for everything are just as egocentric as those who think the world turns at their command—it’s like you’re saying that the negative movements of the universe are dictated solely by your actions," he says, feeling his blood pounding in his ears, and this is not good. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down before speaking again. "It’s not. You can only do so much as your position allows you to. People’s decisions are their own. Let them be responsible for it.”

“But I’m Rei’s captain. I have to be responsible for him,” Makoto argues. “And it’s not just Rei, Rin, responsibility is not something I can ignore. I’ve been in a position of responsibility for all of my life, a big brother, as a captain, as a friend…”

Rin sighs. “Do you always have to think of yourself in reference to what you are to other people?”

“What is wrong with that?”

“I’m not saying it’s wrong, I’m saying you don’t _always_ have to have a frame of reference,” Rin argues. He slouches a little, making himself a little more comfortable, getting the feeling that he won’t be leaving this topic soon. “I mean, look at me, for the longest time, my frame of reference is Haru—everything I’ve done before the prefecturals was measured against Haru and when I got past that, I made the mistake of thinking it’s enough. And look where it got me. Look where it got Haru. Look where it got your _team_.”

“Haru is a standard for a lot of people," Makoto points out. "Rei, Nagisa too… it’s not an uncommon thing.”

“… And you?”

Makoto doesn’t hesitate. “Haru is my best friend.”

“Yeah, but why do you swim, Makoto?”

“It’s something that brings me closer to my friends.”

“Yeah, but if Haru’s not there, will you still keep swimming?”

Makoto pauses to think for a moment, and that slight hesitation is more telling than any answer Makoto can say after it. “It wouldn’t be the same without Haru,” he says finally. “But as long as I have someone to swim with, then I guess I could keep swimming. I won’t let down other people.”

Rin grits his teeth, disappointed about having proven himself right again. “You can’t keep measuring your life with how it stands against other people Makoto. That’s the quickest way to fuck-up ville,” he says.  He adds, a little more quietly: “And believe me, I know what it’s like to fuck up.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself Rin.” Makoto’s voice has taken on a soothing tone, as if Rin's the one that needs more comforting at the moment. Typical really. 

Rin snorts. “I appreciate you trying to spare my ego, but let’s not kid ourselves. You’re guilty about trying to save someone and failing. You know what I’m guilty of, right?” 

Makoto says nothing and Rin bites back his frustration—the fact that he’s still thinking about sparing Rin’s feelings on the matter is just proving Rin’s point all over again. How can someone be so aware of other people but be willfully blind to himself? Rin decides to keep talking. “I fucked up a lot. I fucked up in Australia, I fucked up with my team, I fucked up with Haru and your team, heck, I fucked up with Gou. You know this.”

“But Rin, that’s all in the past now—“

“—I know Haru quit swimming because of me,” Rin interrupts bluntly, and _that_ makes Makoto fall silent. He chews his lower lip for a few moments, letting it sink in, before adding: “And I know you quit because he quit.”

Makoto immediately speaks up. “Rin, I don’t blame you; I never have—“

“—Stop okay, just. STOP!” Rin practically yells, feeling so frustrated and raw, his voice cracking in a way it hasn’t for a long time. “See? Your _first_ reaction to this is to let me know that you don’t blame me, like you’re feeling guilty about making me guilty, and that’s not _right._ That’s just _messed up._ ”

“… Why is it wrong to not want you to feel bad?” Makoto sounds smaller, like he still couldn’t understand why Rin is so upset with him. It’s Makoto at his worst; he refuses to see that there is bad in too much kindness, refuses to see himself outside the context of how he should treat other people.

“It’s not about that Makoto,” Rin tries again. “It’s about how you keep taking the blame for things that are beyond your control. What does keeping your guilt give you?”

“… I… I don’t—”

“—I’ll tell you what. The answer is nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry if it sounds self-absorbed to you but letting your guilt take over whenever an issue that has been long since resolved pops up doesn’t help anyone, least of all you,” Rin says. His throat feels a little raw, he’s pretty sure he’s never spoken so much in such a short amount of time before, but he’s not done yet. “It’s pretty simple actually. If you fuck up, you don’t take the blame and keep it around inside you to let it stew until it’s brought out in the open again. You dust yourself off, swallow your pride, say sorry and then you do something about it.”

“That sounds easier said than done.”

“Well duh, I said it’s simple, not easy. There’s a difference,” Rin says. He runs a hand through his hair, and tries to force the aggression out of his voice. “Again, take me for example. I’m trying to be a better friend. I’m trying to make up for behaving like an asshole all those months ago. And I’m trying not to fuck up the things that _have_ worked out for me.” As soon as he says that last sentence, Rin’s mouth suddenly runs dry, and he licks his lips, his pulse spiking up all of a sudden. “I try, Makoto. I try, _all the time_.”

“I know you do, Rin.”

“Do you really?” Rin challenges, and when Makoto doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Because I’m trying now. Right now.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto sounds apprehensive, and Rin can’t really blame him. He could stand to be less abrasive with his words, but Rin has never been an advocate of pussyfooting.

“I mean I’m trying to figure out what to do with this. With you and me. Because this thing between us…” Rin swallows, and pulls out his last reserves of courage to speak past the lump in his throat. “…is one of the things I haven’t fucked up yet.”

It’s quiet, subtle as a fly-by breeze, but Rin doesn’t miss the audible hitch in Makoto’s breathing after he says it. It suddenly occurs to Rin that it’s the closest thing to a confession he has ever given, and he can’t believe he actually said it like this— he had originally wanted to say it over something with a much more heart-warming setting, like while maybe sitting together in front of a fireplace, or over a nice picnic in a park surrounded by trees dotted with Christmas lights, not after yelling at Makoto and gunning down his life philosophy.

The fragile line between them has never been so prominent before. And it’s true, there is still something Rin wants to try, and if it means fucking up this balance between them then so be it. He’s willing to take this shot the dark and see where it lands; he wants to reach out, and hope that Makoto reaches back. Maybe it will be like blind leading blind, maybe this is something they might regret (he can’t ever forget that Haru was the person they both wanted first), but he realizes now, that has never wanted anything so badly, even if this want _terrifies_ him.

Makoto doesn’t reply for a long time, too long, and fuck, it’s too much, Rin can’t do this right now.

“I have to—“

“Don’t, Rin.”

Rin clenches his jaw, hating himself a little with how he easily succumbs to the way Makoto says his name, a verbal hook that tugs at his heart, halting him from running away. Even when he was still blinded by his father’s dream, it was Makoto’s words that made him stop and think; even when all he saw was Haru back then, it was Makoto’s voice that kept echoing inside his head.

 “… Don’t what?”

He’s not even sure what is the point of asking; of course, Makoto’s just going to say “Don’t go” because he knows that Rin’s chickening out again and—

“Don’t fuck it up.”

Rin’s world crashes all around him.

The words were spoken gently, but it might as well be a punch to the throat—it feels like it at any rate. Rin suddenly can’t breathe, like an invisible vise is wrapping around his chest and squeezing, and it hurts, it hurts so _badly_ , he doesn’t know how he’s still conscious. All the anger and indignation that’s been powering him before seem to have just withered, and he misses it. Anger is productive, anger gives him a ready _shield_ , but all he feels is cold and alone, like he’s twelve years old all over again, getting his dreams stomped on every single day he fails to be the first to touch the wall.

Defenses. First order of business. At least Makoto’s not around to see him right now. He would need to both look and sound unaffected, and he’s fooling himself if he thinks he can do both.

“Tch, of course I won’t,” he manages to say, his voice surprisingly steady. He takes a deep breath, scrounging for whatever strength he has left, even as he feels the pieces of himself crack slowly at his own words. “Don’t worry about that. Why fix something that’s not broken right?”

“Rin…” Makoto’s voice is soft, almost regretful, and Rin is gripping his phone so tightly it’s a miracle he hasn’t crushed it in his fist yet. His mind is on its way to building up its walls, but in the deepest recesses of his heart, he holds on to the dim hope that Makoto meant something, anything _else_ by it, because this can’t be how it goes, after everything’s that happened, this can’t be how it—

Makoto sighs, a noise of defeat, and Rin feels his hope die under the weight of that one tremulous expulsion of air.

“No, you’re right,” Makoto mumbles. “There is nothing to fix.”

 _Nothing to fix_ , Makoto said, but what Rin heard is an old, familiar echo of another phrase he thought he already left behind:  _Not good enough_

“Right,” he says, not even bothering to hide the hollowness in his voice.

Phone static gives the silence between them a significance, a visceral texture, a stark reminder of the distance that exists between them once again. For a full minute, the only other sound he hears is Makoto’s breathing and the barely audible shifts in movement he tries not to make as he fumbles with the phone, his hands, all the little things Rin is painfully aware Makoto is doing to distract himself from the tension that has resurfaced, the same tension they’ve already thought broken long ago.

“Well I know you’re tired,” Makoto says, breaking the stalemate first. It sounds so forced, and Makoto obviously wants to step away. “You should probably get some rest.”

Rin wants to be angry, but he’s not. He’s not feeling much of anything really. “Yeah. Goodnight, Makoto.”

“Good night Rin.”

Rin presses end call and drops his arm to the side, letting the phone slide from his hand and onto his pillow.

Is this it, did he just ruin whatever Makoto and he has because he can’t keep his mouth shut on what he thinks about how Makoto should and shouldn’t act? He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore; why does he keep hurting people without meaning to, how does he _stop_ being such a fuck-up?

He looks back at the glare of his laptop, at the last picture he stopped at before the conversation turned towards more heated waters. It’s a selfie of Makoto holding a finger to his lips, with Rin taking a quick cat nap on his shoulder, taken from the time Makoto helped Rin out on his Japanese literature essay. It’s secretly one of Rin’s favourites, because he likes the way they both look so content, at ease with the world, finding respite in each other’s company, even for a few moments. Rin’s hair fanned around the arch of Makoto’s neck, red tendrils curling loosely against the light tan of Makoto's skin. Makoto’s eyes, bottle-green and bright, look straight into the camera, looking gently protective of this rare moment of peace and quiet, the rays from the afternoon sun making his smile glow. It’s one of the pictures that make Rin smile every time he remembers it.

But Rin can’t smile now. Instead, he stares at the picture until it blurs, until the orange sunset, Makoto’s eyes and Rin’s hair smudge and coalesce into a chaotic swirl of colours. He moves the cursor to the x button to close it and shut down his laptop. His track pad is wet.

 _Nothing to fix_ , he repeats in his head, as he watches the screen turn black, feeling like the biggest wreck in the world. 

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … I’ll fix them, I promise. LOL THIS IS SO FAR FROM ITS PREQUEL GUYS, DO YOU SEE WHAT THIS SHIP HAS DONE TO ME?
> 
> Anyway, again, I’m sorry for my slow updates, as I’m pretty busy IRL. But if you want to ask questions about the fic, yell at me to update, or just yell at me about the MakoRins, you can leave me an ask at [gestahlt.tumblr.com](http://gestahlt.tumblr.com)\- I respond faster there.
> 
> PPS: I was browsing the MakoRin tag while I was posting this, and saw that someone else has written a Rin-finds-out-about-Makoto’s-near-drowning-incident fic, which is so much nicer and pornier than this update, so if you’re feeling bad about this unsatisfactory turnout, go check it out [here](http://attemptsonwords.tumblr.com/post/75071705173/i-need-you-i-couldve-lost-you-i-need-you-i-did-lose) and cheer yourself up. (I know I am!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haru intervenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 3 Things:
> 
> 1\. I’m sorry this is shamefully late. I had other writing requirements to fulfil (White Day, MakoHaru prize fic, the wonderful Isuilde’s birthday) so this kind of took a backseat. I have no other things lined up now though, so the next part shouldn’t take so long (I hope.)
> 
> 2\. Special thanks to [Sospi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unsospiro/pseuds/shooting-guards) for being a patient beta, slogging through my typos and pointing out lazy writing. I added some bits after she was done with it, so any mistakes from here on are mine and mine alone.
> 
> 3\. Lastly, if you’ll notice, I changed the total number of chapters here to 10 instead of 8, as I decided to split the succeeding chapters (including the original outline for this one) for better pacing.

Rin spends the next three days throwing himself into his studies and training like a man possessed, distracting himself from the raw, bitter ache in his chest brought about by his and Makoto’s last conversation. On the first day, Makoto texted him like everything is alright, like there wasn’t this ugly tension between them. He sent Rin a picture of Haru’s painted fingernails courtesy of Ran, some glossy cornflower colour that complemented Haru’s eyes, and followed with a text:

> **T. MAKOTO:** Maybe she can paint your nails next time? I think dark red or black nail polish would suit you. ^_^

It was such a harmless, innocuous message, but Rin could read the hope in it, the _“I don’t want to stop being your friend_ ” and the “ _Let’s just put it behind us_ ,” implications and it made his chest hurt, made his breath catch in his throat at the irritating normalcy of it all.

So he didn’t reply.

Makoto sent other texts, mostly telling Rin about the state of affairs in Iwatobi Land, stuff like Nagisa complaining about carrying weights, Rei outclassing all of them on land training, Haru’s stripping habit thankfully curbed by the cold weather, but never anything about himself.

Then he just stopped texting after just one day. _One_ day. Last time Rin ignored Makoto, he got a total of 24 messages, and 8 missed calls over a span of 3 days.

Now, he just got six, the last message being “I don’t know what I did wrong Rin, but I’m sorry. If you want me to leave you alone, I can do that.” Rin didn’t respond, and Makoto does leave him alone, which makes Rin feel even worse.

But then again, it’s not as if he’s expecting something different. If it’s not hurt, it’s loneliness. It’s typical really; he feels like he’s spent most of his life getting stuck between metaphorical rocks and hard places, losing hope, losing his place, losing people, losing _to_ people. It’s exhausting, feeling like this. He’d rather be angry really, rather have this veneer of reckless volatility instead of bone deep resentment, lashing out instead of quietly stewing.

He wonders if it makes him a bad person if he just reaches his limits more often than he’d like to.

He looks at his phone again, at the messages he wants to but can’t delete. Makoto’s texts sting because it’s so obvious that he’s trying so hard to maintain their _friendship_ and Rin can’t stand to look at it, because it’s not what he wants anymore. He crossed that line, and Makoto chose to stay behind. This is a race he never wanted to win.

Right now, he’s trying to figure out an excuse to cancel the upcoming dinner this Saturday, since he can’t imagine facing Makoto anytime soon. Makoto has practice settling but Rin is not like that. Once he’s decided on something, it’s all or nothing to him. He doesn’t want to keep pretending. Pretending never gave him any happy endings, and he’s not about to make the same mistake again.

Better to stay here and let Makoto speculate, than see him and prove him right.

In a way they’re both ignoring what happened during that conversation, only they ignored it in different ways. Makoto dealt with it by pretending it never happened or that nothing bad came out of it, while Rin dealt with it by _not_ dealing with it.

 _People are illogical and complicated_ , Rin doodles on his math homework, as he solves his third trigonometry problem. Unlike math. Well okay, math can be complicated yes, but at least everything can be solved, everything can be reduced to equations, to fractions of a circle. There’s a certain comfort to be had with knowing that mathematical problems all have solutions, several even. Also, if he gets the answers wrong, it won’t alienate him from one of his best friends.

Too fucking bad Tachibana Makoto is not a mathematical equation.

He finishes the last of his homework, and closes his books, disappointed to find out that there isn’t anything more to solve. He wonders what he should do next. It’s the first Friday of the month, and he’s actually done all his homework, which is equal parts productive and uncool. He could be at Makoto’s now, playing videogames or getting his nails painted a deep red by Ran, and maybe later tonight he could be sinking those red nails through sandy brown hair, sighing happily into Makoto’s mouth, starting the night off with lazy make-outs, nestled under a warm cocoon of blankets.

His phone beeps, and he hates himself a little for the surge of hope in his chest as he reaches for it and checks the sender. It’s not Makoto.

But close enough.

> **N. HARUKA:** Rin, let’s swim.

Rin rolls his eyes and texts back:

> **M. RIN:** It’s 10PM Haru, the pool is closed.
> 
> **N. HARUKA:** No it’s not, I got in just fine.

Rin shoots up straight in his seat, almost knocking back his chair in the process. Ai gives him a concerned look from his perch on the top bunk, and Rin gestures that he’s okay, and straightens up, glaring at the phone, as he types a reply.  


> **M. RIN:** How the hell did you break in, the door is padlocked!
> 
> **N. HARUKA:** A hairpin and instructions from the internet. Come down, let’s go.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Fuck off Haru. I don’t want to get in trouble.

_And I don’t want to see you_ , he adds in his head, scowling. Normally, he’d jump at any chance to compete with Haru, but today he’s really not just feeling it. Putting aside the fact that he’s had the worst times he’s ever had in the history of ever in that last practice session, he’s not really in the mood to face the person who’s back to occupying most of Makoto’s time, the person he keeps losing to again and again.

Haru doesn’t reply for a while, and just as Rin’s thinking Haru has finally seen reason and left, his phone beeps again.

> **N. HARUKA:** If they didn’t kick you out when you joined a relay for another team in an official competition, they’re not going to kick you out for swimming in the pool after hours.

Rin groans. Why can’t he have normal friends? Why is everyone he knows who isn’t Makoto a freak? Scowling, he replies, tapping the screen a little harsher than necessary.

> **M. RIN:** I could still get suspended, you asshole.
> 
> **N. HARUKA:** Just tell them you needed to think, and the water helps you think.
> 
> **M. RIN:** Don’t assert your ludicrous water monomania on me.
> 
> **N. HARUKA:** Mikoshiba texted Makoto about how you posted really shitty times during your last practice. I really don’t want to believe him but…

Rin’s jaw actually drops open. He stares at his phone, as he slowly comes to terms with the fact that Mikoshiba, of all people, has been ratting him out to _Makoto,_ and it takes all his self-control not to storm out of the room, knock down said captain’s door, and kick his ass so hard, he’ll clearly see what he had for dinner on the floor, once Rin’s done with him.

He takes deep breaths, quelling his violent impulses and instead formulates an elaborate plan to exact less overt but equally painful vengeance upon his treacherous captain, which may possibly include a healthy coating of Bengay formula on his deodorant or capsaicin power in his speedos.

Of course, the sudden influx of righteous indignation sparks an inescapable need to prove himself to Haru, and just like that, he’s texting Haru back.

> **M. RIN:** Fine. You owe me for this.
> 
> **N. HARUKA:** Whatever. Just get here asap.

Rin shoves his phone in his pocket, strides across the room, and pokes his roommate on the side. “I’m going to the pool to race Haru, can you cover for me?”

Ai nods eagerly – too eagerly—Rin notices, but he’s not complaining. “Sure, senpai,” he chirps. “Will you be gone long?”

Rin raises an eyebrow at Ai’s quick assent, before noticing the stack of eros magazines by the foot of the bunk, and wisely decides not to ask any more questions. ”An hour? Two hours tops.”

Ai nods. “Sure, no problem. Good luck senpai!”

Rin grabs his legskins and bag from the floor and storms out.

*

Rin manages to sneak into the pool without much fanfare, and sure enough, Haru’s already there, floating leisurely in the middle lane like a log on a slow flowing river.

“What brought this on? We just had a joint practice session last week,” Rin calls out, as he strips off his clothes and lays them carelessly on one of the benches.

Haru swims towards the edge of the pool and pulls off his goggles, watching Rin go through his warm-up exercises. “Exactly. It’s been a week since I last swam,” he says. “Also, we didn’t get to race back then.”

“I thought you didn’t like racing,” Rin replies. He stretches his left leg forward and dips his right knee backward into a lunge, wincing a bit at the stretch, hamstrings drawn a bit too tightly.

Haru shrugs and lays both elbows on the edge of the pool. “It’s fine if it’s with you.”

“Whatever.“ Rin finishes the last of his back stretching and gestures at Haru to get out of the pool. “Get up here and let’s start this properly.”

Haru nods and hoists himself out. Rin blinks, wondering what’s wrong with this picture, before realizing that he’s so used to seeing Makoto pull Haru out from the pool for so long it looks weird seeing Haru do it himself. He’s so used to seeing Makoto, period.

Haru notices him staring, and promptly snaps him out of it.

“100 meter race?” Haru asks, as he steps up to the diving block.

“Yeah,” Rin agrees, shaking his head, clearing it of distractions. Now is not the time to think of Makoto or his prominent absence. He has a race to win.

He does his customary goggle-strap snap against the back of his head and bends down to the starting position.

“On my mark,” Haru starts. “Three. Two. One!”

They dive, and in that moment, Rin once more loses himself to distraction. Swimming is the one thing that takes all his attention, and more so when it’s Haru he’s racing against. It’s so easy to get lost in the rhythm of strokes, slicing through the water, turning his head and regulating the flow of oxygen to his lungs, heartbeat pounding away, concentrating on nothing but moving forward, one meter at a time.

When the two of them finally touch the wall, Haru beats him by a full second, Rin is sure, but Rin can’t bring himself to feel any worse than he already is.

“You’re a bit off today,” Haru notes, as he removes his googles.

“You beat me by one second, don’t get cocky,” Rin retorts, before pulling himself out of the pool. “Again.”

Haru nods, and once more they step onto the blocks, take their positions, and start all over again.

*

Two wins, two losses and a highly contested draw later, they finally stop racing when Rin irritably points out that Haru is still a trespasser, and that as much as the two of them are super swell friends again, Rin’s not really willing to condone any law-breaking just so Haru can fulfil his absurd moisture requirements.

“Okay,” Haru concedes from behind him. “But there’s one thing I still want to try.”

“Haru, you’ve overstayed your welcome,” Rin snaps, as he turns around, working up his best withering glare. “And I am so not saving your ass when—“

He shuts up abruptly when he suddenly finds Haru’s face inches away from his, blue eyes looking at him with an almost manic focus, insinuating himself into Rin’s space with a seamless fluidity, fingers curling around Rin’s shoulder.

Rin freezes for a split second, brain locking up at Haru’s utterly bizarre behaviour, his vision zeroing in on Haru’s lips— have they always been this pink?— before realization strikes him like a splash of ice cold water to the face, and he reacts, his hands flying up to push Haru off…

…and into the pool, where he falls on his back, in a manner that still manages to look somewhat graceful because this is fucking Nanase Haruka, the guy who doesn’t know to be anything less than gorgeous when immersed in his chosen element. 

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

Haru emerges from the surface and irritably shakes away the water from his eyes. “Ow. That hurt, Rin.”

“That _hurt?”_ Rin practically yells, his face flaming. “What the _hell_ were you trying to _do?_ ”

Haru blinks. “You mean it’s not obvious?”

Rin could feel his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “Were you trying to _kiss_ me?”

“Yeah.” Haru says, and tilts his head, looking confused. “Was I doing it wrong?”

Rin stares at Haru for a full five seconds before turning around abruptly. “I’m out of here.” He grabs his things and briskly walks away, wishing for the sound of his alarm clock so he could pretend that this has all been a very bad dream.

“Wait, Rin!” There’s the sound of splashing water, and Rin knows Haru has gotten out of the pool to chase after him. “Does that mean you’re rejecting me?”

Rin both wants to laugh and cry at the same time, and he stops, without looking at Haru. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good.”

 _That_ makes Rin whirl around. “That’s good?” he repeats in disbelief, only to find Haru right behind him, and Rin nearly trips over himself in his haste to put some space between them.

“It’s good that you rejected me,” Haru repeats calmly, watching Rin right himself up.

The sheer surrealism of the whole situation is making Rin’s head spin. “What is going _on?_ ”

“It’s good because it means Makoto doesn’t have to worry about anything,” Haru explains.

“Makoto? What the fuck does he—wait, did Makoto put you up to this?”

Haru shakes his head. “Makoto has nothing to do with this. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Things are happening way too fast and Rin’s brain can’t catch up. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s alerted to the distant sound of footsteps of the guard on duty, so he immediately yanks Haru by the wrist, grabs his things from the bench and hurries into the locker room. He throws his and Haru’s stuff into a locker, closes it, and pulls Haru into the last bathroom stall, the two of them leaning flush against the wall, Haru squished right beside him, and not a moment too soon.

Rin holds his breath as hears the door opening, a flash light beam sweeping across the floor and the walls, as the guard checks the room. Beside him, Haru stands perfectly still, waiting, his breath held in similar suspension to Rin’s.

Finally after a few agonizing minutes, the guard finally leaves. When the door closes, and the sound of clacking footsteps slowly fade away, Rin exhales and steps out of the stall, Haru following close behind.

“Are we safe?” Haru whispers.

“Yeah, the guard will be heading to the other building,” Rin answers. “We’ll have around another forty five minutes before someone goes back.”

They head back to the locker area, where Rin turns on just one of the lights before throwing himself on the nearest bench.

“Okay.” Rin runs a hand through his hair, looking at Haru from the corner of his eye, as he carefully assesses the situation. “Just so we’re clear, that entire… weirdness back there was you deliberately trying to find out if I still had a thing for you.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t like me.”

“Not in that way, no.”

“Okay.” Rin takes deep calming breaths, relieved that he hasn’t entered some sort of Bizarro world after all. “Okay, that’s… that’s good.” He pauses and then makes a face. “Wait no, that’s not good. I mean, what possessed you to go all the way here to pull that stunt?”

“Makoto is not himself. You’ve been ignoring him, and he doesn’t know why,” Haru answers matter-of-factly.

“So your solution to this is to trek out here, break into our pool, force me to race you and then try to kiss me?” Rin throws up his hands in exasperation. “You’re worse than Nagisa.”

Haru apparently doesn’t think this is an unforgiveable slur to his person. “It’s inconvenient when Makoto’s sad,” he says, shrugging. 

Rin almost chuckles at that. Haru’s way of showing his protective streak is something else. Then it occurs to him that part of this protective streak is now assuming that Rin is going to cater to his demands for answers, and Rin scowls, folding his arms. “Yeah well, what makes you think I’d tell you?”

Haru looks surprised. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know, maybe because it’s none of your business?” Rin snaps, a little churlishly.

Haru frowns, as if he didn’t expect this kind of outcome. “But I want to help you. Both of you.”

Rin is taken aback. “ _Both_ of us?”

“Yeah,” Haru answers, like he couldn’t understand why Rin is still surprised at this. “Makoto’s upset, and you’re clearly upset too. I can see it in the way you swim. Now that I’m sure it’s not because of me, I want to know why, so we can fix it and get things back to normal again.”

Rin will say this about Haru—he has a very straightforward way of dealing with things. Unlike Rin who frequently lets his emotions dictate his actions, or Makoto, whose actions are frequently dictated by others’ emotions, Haru, whenever he decides to be actively part of the solution that is, has always been about cause and effect: X happened; test Y theory and if Y theory is proven untrue, move to Plan B, which is usually the lazier, simpler option.

And really, there is nothing lazier and simpler than straight up asking _why._

Fuck it. Rin really didn’t count on Haru throwing a monkey wrench in his pity party plans, but he did make an unusual amount of effort to get here, even if Rin personally thinks it’s a waste. So with a sigh, he gives in. “Alright fine,” he concedes, leaning forward, grasping the locker room bench tightly. “Short story is, Makoto said he doesn’t want things to change between us.”

There. Short, straight and simple. Haru’s not the only one capable of cutting the crap.

Haru doesn’t seem perturbed. “And you do?”

“Duh Haru, if we both wanted the same thing, do you think we’d have any problems?”

“What makes you think you don’t want the same things?”

“Because he said it himself.” The memory of Makoto’s gentle voice, telling Rin not to screw up the status quo comes rushing back,and another wave of bitterness surges up within him. “According to him, we’re fine as we are now so I shouldn’t fuck it up.”

Haru raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Yeah well, he’s been throwing me this giant bag of mixed signals for the past two weeks,” Rin snaps. “I don’t get it. Last week he was all about hanging out instead of screwing around, and then three days ago, he says there’s no need to change our current arrangement.”

Haru still doesn’t seem convinced. “Did you say something that may have made him change his mind?”

Rin pauses. It’s a question that has plagued him before but the idea of Makoto changing his mind just because Rin couldn’t keep a leash on his drama queen tendencies sounds rather absurd, not to mention straight out of some pretentious relationship article from some tween magazine. Still, it’s not entirely impossible. “Well, I sort of… attacked him for mindlessly going after Rei during your ocean training camp,” he admits.

Haru’s eyes narrow. “You _attacked_ him for trying to save Rei?”

“I called him an egotistical bastard because he kept saying that the whole thing was his fault, that’s all,” Rin says defensively.

Haru looks at Rin like he just grew an extra nostril. “You called _Makoto_ an _egotistical bastard_? You?”

Rin glowers at Haru, irritation starting to simmer beneath his skin, even if Rin admits that his choice of words could’ve been better. “Yeah so? He keeps taking the blame for everything, like other people couldn’t possibly be at fault,” he grouses. “Fine. My mouth run off a little, but it doesn’t make it any less true. So I told him he needs to take better care of himself, let others take the fall sometime.” His voice grows just a little hesitant at his next words. “I don’t think he appreciated it much.”

Haru folds his arms, looking completely unamused. “And that surprises you, why?”

“I didn’t say it did, smartass.” Rin snaps. “All I’m saying is that I just wanted him to think about himself for goddamn once. Big mistake. When I tried to make up for being an asshole and told him that hey, he’s one of the few things that have actually worked out pretty well in my life, he seemed to interpret it as something that should stay as is, because there’s nothing to fix apparently. Like brokenness is a pre-requisite to change.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Well I got the brokenness down pat now, but I doubt change is coming anytime soon.”

“Wait. You seriously think that just because you yelled at him and ragged on his martyr complex, Makoto decided he liked to stay as just friends after all?” Haru says, looking as incredulous as he ever gets. “You’re an idiot.”

It was said offhandedly, the admonishment containing not so much malice as exasperation, but for some reason, it makes something inside Rin snap, all the resentment and self-loathing bubbling beneath the surface for the past three days now rushing full force to his head, making him nearly dizzy with it, and he can’t quite stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, venomous and deliberately meant to cut.

“Yeah _. I’m_ the idiot,” he sneers, as he stands up from the bench. So much for Haru’s non-partisan approach to the matter. Why does he even bother to hope otherwise? “Of course, what else did I expect? Makoto gets upset and here you are, the white knight, ready to defend his honour.”

Haru’s jaw drops open, apparently not expecting Rin to react this way. “Rin. I said I came here for both—“

 “—Bullshit. You said it yourself, you came here because Makoto is upset. You asked me what happened, I answered you. And you called me an idiot because you automatically assumed that it’s _my_ fault we’re like this.”

“Rin you don’t—“

“Because that’s what I’m good at right? Hurting people?” Rin interjects loudly, talking over Haru’s protests. “Perfect Makoto can’t hurt a fly, so of course it has to be My. Fault.”

Haru goes still and quiet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really? You could’ve fooled me.” Rin can feel his skin grow hot, his vision narrowing down to a square frame, Haru’s shocked face in the center, blurred around the edges, his anger so potent it’s manifesting itself physically. He steps forward, menacingly, forcing Haru to stumble back until his back hit the wall. “Well I’ve got news for you. He’s not.”

“Rin…”

“He can be cruel—“

 “—You’re wrong Rin—“

“—and lead people on—

The way Haru’s eyes flash in defiance just makes Rin even angrier. “—No Rin, he’s _not_ like that—“

“—Shut up, just shut the fuck _up,_ I don’t want to hear this from you!” Rin yells. He doesn’t realize he crashed his fist against the wall until he feels sharp pain shooting up his hand, and hears the sick sound of knobs popping. Just great, one more fuck-up to add to the horrid pile of fuck-ups in this shitty day. At this point, he’s willing to convert to any religion whose god would smite him as he stands now to put him out of his misery.

Haru just stares at Rin’s wrist inches away from his cheek, then back at Rin, stunned.

“Things are changing, it’s inevitable, and he knows it, he can’t _not_ know it,” Rin chokes out, tenuous tears forming at the back of his eyelids, threatening to tear down whatever strength he has left in his voice, but he blinks them away and soldiers on, words flying out his mouth, impulse trouncing discernment. “And then he told me not to fuck things up, and that’s it, I’m stuck—“

“—Rin—“

“—he doesn’t want things to move further, and where does that leave me? I don’t know what to—“

“—Think, Rin!” Haru grabs Rin’s wrist, his voice rising higher than Rin’s ever heard from him. “If something is changing inevitably,” he says hoarsely. “What do you _think_ would fuck it up, trying to stop it, or changing with it?”

Rin eyes go wide, Haru’s words hitting him like a freight train, jolting him out of the haze of anger and toxicity clouding his head. He wrenches his injured hand away from Haru’s grasp, and looks away.

“What makes you think you know that’s what Makoto meant?” he whispers.

“I don’t,” Haru admits, looking down. He bites his lip, seemingly mulling his next words over, the awkward silence punctuated by stabs of white noise, the hum of the indoor heaters, the distant echoes of the pool. It takes a few seconds before he looks up again. “But I know that the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

Haru winces. “I know.” He looks at Rin warily, as if bracing himself for another round of Rin’s explosive rage. “Look, I know I have nothing to do with this,” he starts, when Rin just looks at him mutely. “But now that I’ve heard your side, I really think this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

A big misunderstanding. Fair assessment—it sounds like the story of Rin’s life alright. Rin narrows his eyes. “If you have nothing to do with this, then why are you so invested?”

“Because I don’t want either of you to feel what I felt when you first said you’re never swimming with me again,” Haru answers softly. “Or when I thought that my winning caused you to quit swimming. When I thought I hurt _you_.”

Haru’s answer pierces through the haze of anger in Rin’s head, and he blinks. Haru looks so unguarded, his eyes wide and opaque, trying to understand Rin in the ways he knows how, limited as it is. Haru may not know how Rin is feeling but he knows what being hurt is like, and the fact that he went out of his way to tell Rin this is ample proof that Haru is not fucking around, that he too, is affected by what Rin and Makoto are doing to each other, and he wants to _do_ something about it.

This humbling realization, that Haru’s allowing himself to be so open to him, that Haru’s willing to do so much for him, stirs something in Rin, and just like that, all the fight goes out of him. He brings his hand down. His knuckles are bleeding, the skin split open on the knobs of his bones, and it’s only then that the pain manifests itself fully, now that the adrenaline has fled from his veins.

At least he used his left hand; he’d be totally screwed if it was his right. He won’t be able to cook the four course meal he promised Makoto if he damaged his dominant hand.

Oh right, he’s not even sure if he’s seeing Makoto tomorrow anymore. Maybe he should have used his right hand after all; at least it would’ve given him a good excuse to call off the dinner. Oh well. 

Haru looks at Rin’s hand and then, without another word, proceeds to step around him, heading towards his bag. Rin stays where he is, breathing heavily, wounded fist hanging by his side, head bent. He’s just so _tired_. He just wants to curl up into a ball and exist in a vacuum somewhere, for the rest of the day, or month or year even. He’s tired of being angry, tired of being disappointed, tired of being rejected, tired of just _feeling._

A pair of pruny toes appears in his vision and he looks up to see Haru standing in front of him, a first aid kit in his grasp.

“Sit down, Rin,” Haru says, and Rin, too exhausted to put up any resistance, follows, collapsing on the nearby bench without a word.

Haru sits beside him. “Hand,” he orders, and Rin manages to glare a little before petulantly holding out his hand. Haru’s fingers close around his wrist, guiding Rin’s hand towards his lap. He then gets some antiseptic solution and drops some directly on Rin’s wounds. Rin hisses at the sting, but he doesn’t say anything.

Haru looks up, almost apologetic. “How much does it hurt?” he asks, before lifting Rin’s hand and blowing across his knuckles.

“It’s no big deal,” Rin mutters, inwardly relieved at the instant soothing effect of Haru’s cool breath across his open wounds.

Haru looks like he doesn’t believe him, which Rin kind of expects—he’s never been a good liar and Haru’s more perceptive than people give him credit for. “If you say so,” he says. He then picks up a roll of bandages and begins wrapping them around Rin’s hand.

Rin watches Haru as he works on Rin’s knuckles, slowly repairing the damage Rin brought on to himself. Haru has always had nice hands, artistic hands, hands that fix things. Makoto told Rin once that Haru’s really good with anything to do with his hands, and like most teenage boys, Rin jokingly said it’s a shame he’s not interested in sex as that would be really useful, but watching him work now, Rin realizes how true this claim is. Haru’s touch is light, his fingers wasting no movement, careful but firm pressure pressing down on Rin’s skin, navigating the breaks of skin and raw areas with ease.

Rin on the other hand, is good with his feet. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at running away.

“Do you always carry around a first-aid kit in your bag?” Rin asks, breaking the silence.

“Makoto sometimes get scratches when he plays with the cats in our neighbourhood,” Haru answers, not looking up from his task.

Rin raises an eyebrow. “I thought all the cats love him.”

“They do.” Haru’s eyes flick up to meet Rin’s briefly before going back to concentrating on wrapping another layer around Rin’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt him.”

For some inexplicable reason, those words make something stir within Rin.  “Oh yeah?” he asks nonchalantly. “How?”

“Usually it’s when they try to cling to him to grab his attention." Haru pauses before adding: "Or when they try to stop him from leaving. Sometimes, they sink their claws into his skin.”

“Wow, cats sure are dumb,” Rin blurts out, without thinking.

“Yeah they can be sometimes,” Haru agrees. “But they have good intentions, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, just terrible execution,” Rin mutters.

“Can’t argue with that,” Haru says. His lips turn up slightly into a small amused smile and he glances at Rin from the corner of his eye. “But again, I know they mean well.”

“Well yeah of course they do, it’s not like they know any better,” Rin mutters stubbornly. “And Makoto’s dumb too, going back for more.”

“Well Makoto has no trouble bearing with it. A little unintentional scratch here and there is nothing,” Haru counters smoothly. “Especially considering how happy they make him.”

Rin looks up sharply, but Haru has gone back to making the finishing touches on dressing Rin’s wounds, looking extra attentive, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah well, Makoto should probably be clearer about his intentions,” Rin grumbles. “For all we know, he’s giving off ‘it’s been fun, gotta go’ signals when he really means ‘be right back, I’ll return with steak.’ Or something.’”

Haru actually cracks a half-smile at that. “Steak?”

“Bad analogy, but you know what I mean,” Rin huffs.

“Well he can’t really speak cat you know,” Haru says lightly, and snips off the end of the bandage. “Miscommunication happens all the time.”

For some reason, this makes a lump form in Rin’s throat, and he finds himself blinking rapidly, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden.

Haru just keeps talking. “But for all these setbacks, they always make up in the end,” he continues quietly, as he places the last piece of medical tape on Rin’s bandages, securing them in place. “I don’t think they’ll be able to resist each other for too long.”

Rin wants to say something else, something profound or sarcastic, doesn’t matter which, as long as it keeps him from feeling like a total failure, like someone who has been assuming the worst out of the kindest person he knows.

But in the end, all he could say is: “Dumb... stupid cats…” He could feel the tears prickling at his eyes again, hot and thick, and he feels so stupid, frustrated, and overly emotional -- which is basically what he’s feeling eighty percent of the time, only magnified twice over. “Stupid Makoto…”

He swallows the lump in his throat, and bites his lip, not trusting himself to speak another word. What the hell is wrong with him? They’re talking about _cats_ for god’s sake.

The palm curving around the side of his face is unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. The pad of Haru’s thumb gently swipes across Rin’s cheekbone, delicately wiping off the tear Rin didn’t even realize had started rolling down his face.

“It’s okay, Rin,” Haru says softly.

For a brief moment, Rin is tempted to raise his shields again, say something stupid like “what, are you running out of moisture now?” but when Haru draws his thumb away, he doesn’t stop there. There’s a bit of hesitation, as if he doesn’t know how to proceed next, before Haru’s hand  wraps around Rin’s tired shoulders and pulls him close, in some sort of well-meaning but awkward one-arm hug.

It's such a strange move, coming from Haru who rarely goes out of his way to touch people, but it is a comfort Rin desperately needs, and Haru has made exceptions for Rin before.

So Rin lets himself crumble, lets himself fall, lets himself be saved again.

“Since when did you develop people skills?” Rin mumbles against Haru’s bicep. He doesn’t sob, not quite, his breath coming out in soft little hiccups against Haru's skin.

Haru gives Rin’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I’ve had practice recently.”

“Did Makoto come crying to you too?”

“Makoto never cries in front of other people.”

“Not even you?”

Haru purses his lips. “He smiles. Like what he always does,” he answers. His left hand fists around the wet material of his jammers. “But it’s the brittle and fake kind. I hate it.”

“The kind he uses when he’s lying through his teeth,” Rin murmurs absently. Again, that day in the river flashes in his mind. Hate is a strong word, but Rin completely agrees with Haru on this one.

“Yeah.” There’s a bitterness in Haru’s voice that Rin doesn’t miss, and Rin’s no longer surprised to know that he’s not the only one who has a problem with how Makoto is sometimes so willing to sabotage his own well-being in favour of other people's. “The last time he smiled like that, he nearly killed himself trying to save someone else.”

“I know,” Rin says softly, understanding all too well.

“It’s not something I want to experience again,” Haru says firmly. “So you can see why I’m a little invested.”

“Well if he’s anything like me, the only thing he may be drowning himself in are his sorrows,” Rin says wryly.

Haru shakes his head. “I’d rather there not be drowning of any sort, if possible.”

“Fair enough.” Rin tests the range of movement on his left hand. It doesn’t hurt as much as he expected it to; Haru really did a good job.  “I’m surprised though. I always thought you guys could tell each other anything.”

“We don’t always choose to. I didn’t tell him about our race back in middle school until after the prefecturals,” Haru says. “And I know there are many things he never told me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. We let each other keep things to ourselves. Being best friends doesn’t always mean you have to tell each other everything.” Haru’s voice takes a softer tone, like he’s remembering a fond memory. “Sometimes, it means giving the other person the choice not to, without taking it against them.”

Then he looks at Rin. “And sometimes, it means being there for them, even at their worst—no, _especially_ , at their worst, even when they try to push you away.”

Rin feels his cheeks grow hot, and covers it up with a scowl, looking away. “It’s not fair. I don’t understand how you can read the two of us so well, you’re supposed to be the social weirdo here,” he complains.

“What’s so hard to understand? I can read Makoto because we’ve been friends since before we even knew how to talk,” Haru quips. “I can read you because you suck at hiding things.”

Rin shoots Haru a dirty look, racking his brain for a snappy comeback… and coming up empty, because it’s not actually untrue.

He closes his eyes, savouring the moment, the warmth of Haru’s skin flush against his, the comforting pressure of his fingers on Rin’s shoulder. The heaviness in Rin's heart is lifting, buoyed by Haru’s unshakeable belief in him. Things are far from resolved, that much is certain, but Rin feels that he’s made substantial progress. At the very least, Haru has given Rin the assurance that there is still hope in him and Makoto, even if he doesn’t have all the answers Rin wants.

His eyes fly open. Wait. There’s still one thing lingering at the back of Rin’s mind, one question that Haru may be able to answer directly, and if he doesn’t take this chance now, he may regret it.

“Haru?”

“Yeah?”

Rin takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous. It would be so weird, asking this after everything Haru has already said. But Rin needs to know. He’s tired of being insecure when here, sitting beside him, is living proof that there is no reason to be.

“What is Makoto to you?”

The question seems to surprise Haru, because he slowly lowers his hand, allowing Rin to sit upright so he can look at Haru more clearly. He ponders the question, which makes Rin a little nervous, because he didn’t think it was a question that needs to be thought about. Rin doesn’t know why he’s holding his breath, but he does it anyway.

Finally, after Rin has practically chewed a hole into his lower lip, Haru speaks up. “There is very little,” he starts, “…of what Makoto is _not_ to me.”

There is a surety in Haru’s voice, heavy with the weight of his and Makoto’s history, of a bond so strong it cannot be questioned. And yet for some reason, Rin finds comfort in it, because this is something he has known for years, this is something he’s familiar with, something to be considered as plain and simple fact, like how the sun always rises, and how the waves always return to the sea. It is not (never was) something to be resented.

Haru proves this with his next words: “But what _you_ are to him right now, is one of them.”

Rin sucks in a breath, feeling his pulse spike. In all honesty, Haru’s response answered nothing concrete, but there’s a confidence in it that tugs at Rin’s heart, gently melting the icy walls of cynicism he’s built around himself. And why wouldn’t it? If there’s anything Rin can trust Haru about, it’s Makoto, the boy he’s known all his life. Besides which, among the three of them, Haru’s the only who knows where he stands in their lives. A little faith in him is more than merited.

 “Rin.” Haru turns towards him, his gaze piercing and serious. “You need to fix this. Fix each other. There’s only so much I can do.”

Rin hangs his head, again feeling humbled by the realization of how much the two of them mean to Haru, who sees something in Makoto worth protecting, and sees something in Rin worth saving. He eyes the bandages on his hand, and what it represented.  “Well you’ve done more than I have so far.”

“Then get on with it.” Haru elbows Rin in the ribs almost playfully. “You’re not going to let me have the satisfaction of saying I did more for repairing your relationship with Makoto than you did, are you?”

Rin cracks a weak smile at that. It’s refreshing to know that no matter how bad things get, Haru always knows the right words to get a rise out of him. “Fat chance.”

“Good.” Haru nods, and claps a hand on Rin’s shoulder as he stands up. “And… we’re good right?”

Rin smile widens, gaining strength from Haru’s sincerity, and he feels lighter, happier than he has been for the past three days. “Yeah we’re good.” Slowly, he gets up as well, stretching his limbs. “Anyway, the chlorine is making me itch. Shower?”

Haru is already way ahead of him.

*

As it turns out, they don’t actually get any showering done because the shower room’s water heater has been turned off for the night. Rin yells the profanity equivalent of a hundred rap songs when ice cold water hits him straight on the chest. Across him, Haru doesn’t even flinch, because apparently, he’s got balls of steel when it comes to anything water, though he’s shivering as much as Rin is when they both scurry out the locker room and jump into the pool for immediate relief.

“Looks like we’ll have to use the dorm showers,” Rin says as they towel off the chlorine water and throw on some dry clothes. He politely looks away when Haru strips off his jammer without preamble, unselfconscious as ever, before picking up his pants and blinking at it, as if he's trying to remember something important.

“You forgot to bring underwear didn’t you,” Rin says dryly.

“It’s not like I can get hard in the cold,” Haru says defensively. “Makoto always brings an extra pair anyway…”

“Seriously? What _don’t_ you guys share,” Rin mutters.

“Does that upset you?” Haru asks, raising an eyebrow, as he puts on his pants, one leg at a time. “In that case, I’ll make it fair, you can just lend me yours too.”

“That’s not how fairness works!”

“What’s the big deal? It’s just clothes.”

“It’s not ‘just clothes’ you moron, do you not realize how often I shove my…” Rin trails off when Haru just looks genuinely befuddled, and sighs, chalking this experience up to another lesson in Dealing with Nanase Haruka’s Idiosyncrasies 101. “… Never mind. Okay fine, you can borrow from me.”

Haru nods as if that settled the matter. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Rin gives up. “Just don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, throwing his Samezuka jacket in Haru’s direction. “Put that on, you need all the camouflage you can get.”

Haru accepts the jacket without question, and puts it on.  “It’s a good thing you pushed me into the pool,” he admits, as they silently pad across the pool area towards the exit. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“What, kissing? Knowing you, you’d probably be good at it. It’s pretty instinctive once you get used to it.”

Haru wrinkles his nose. “I don’t see what is so instinctive about poking your tongue into someone’s mouth and wiggling it around.”

“You were going straight for that?” Rin asks. "Holy shit, I’m so glad I pushed you before you had the chance, I might have been so shocked I would have probably bitten your tongue off.”

The look on Haru’s face is absolutely priceless, and Rin laughs, genuinely, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “Okay maybe that’s an exaggeration. But I still wouldn’t have taken it very well.”

Haru raises an eyebrow, curious. “Would you take it any better if I didn’t go straight for that?”

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you really did want to kiss me,” Rin teases. “I’m sorry, but I’m faithful to Makoto you see; besides which, you had your chance months ago and you blew it.”

Haru rolls his eyes. “Why would I still want to kiss you, now that I know what dangers Makoto goes through every time his tongue goes spelunking in there.”

“Hey, my teeth are cool and Makoto likes them,” Rin retorts. “Keeps things interesting.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen what interesting looks like, it keeps changing places.”

Rin punches Haru lightly on the arm with his uninjured hand. “You’re such an ass sometimes, you know that?”

“Funny you should mention that, I came all the way here to help you pull your head out of yours.”

Damn, Haru got him on that one. “Alright fine,” Rin admits. “But next time you want to do any head pulling, try to do it someplace you won’t need to trespass illegally? I’m pretty sure there are many ways to talk about stuff that don’t involve breaking and entering.”

“Yes well,” Haru shrugs, and shoots Rin a smirk as they enter the corridors leading towards the dorms. “I wanted to use the pool.”

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A couple of weeks ago, an anon came to my inbox mentioning the lack of Haru + Rin friendship in MakoRin fic, which was such a coincidence because I was writing exactly that for this. The RInHaru duet CD was particularly inspirational- it was so adorable and fluffy, I think it seeped through here haha. If I could, I would have also written a Makoto + Haru friendship angle in this fic, but it’s kind of difficult, seeing as this is written entirely from Rin’s POV, so I hope the little bits of Haru’s friendship with Makoto shone through here. If not, then you can just read Sospi's companion fic to This Gentle Heart [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1170162), which pretty much reflects what I think of the MakoHaru friendship in this fic verse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Again, thanks to [Sospi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unsospiro) for the beta. 
> 
> 2.) To those who read the preview on my tumblr, I changed a few things, so it'd be best if you read it again with the rest of the fic.
> 
> 3.) Lastly, seeing as the past two chapters have been heavy on the angst, it's only natural that I regress on this one with dick jokes so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip the first part.

“How does this heater work?”

“Red is hot, and blue is cold. Seriously Haru, what century were you born in?”

“I know that. How do you operate it?”

“Uh, you pull it towards you in the direction of your preferred temperature?”

“It’s not working. I think it’s stuck.”

“How can it be stuck?”

“Just come over here and take a look.”

“But I already took off my legskins!” Rin protests. He’s no conservative but there’s just something off-putting about parading your junk in front of your former crush who tried to kiss you for research purposes.

“Rin, I’m interested in using your shower, not your dick,” Haru retorts, and Rin can practically hear Haru rolling his eyes.

“ _You’re_ a dick,” Rin mutters, well aware of the efficacy of his stunning wit, but trudges over to the other stall just the same. “Don’t stare.”

“When did you become such a prude?” Haru asks.

“I am not!” Rin snaps, as he shoves himself past Haru to check out the so-called deficient shower levers. “It’s just cold, okay?”

“So?” Haru shrugs. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Rin hand stops halfway to the offensive shower lever,  and he whips around, throwing Haru his most withering look. Oh, it is _on_. “Is that a dig at my size? Like yours is any better.”

“I was talking about being naked in front of each other,“ Haru huffs, doing that little thing with his head that signifies his annoyance. “But if that’s what you’re worried about, I already know Makoto’s an unfair standard to compare against. So don’t worry, I’m not judging.”

Rin bristles at this. “First of all fuck you, and second of all, why the hell are you so familiar with Makoto’s junk?”

“Because I’ve been seeing it since we were kids. Its growth rate is proportional to the rest of his body. That’s why his swimsuits are all carefully selected to compensate for drag factor,” Haru recites with a straight face, like he’s describing an interesting creature of the jungle wilderness to a nature documentary team, and Rin has to immediately stomp on the image slowly forming in his brain before his hyperactive imagination can run away it and make his mind’s eye burn. “It’s actually good that he swims backstroke.”

“Get out, Makoto’s choice of stroke has everything to do with his fear of water and nothing to do with his cock’s drag resistance.”

“Says the guy who shaves his hair down there for any competitive edge,” Haru fires back. “You missed a spot by the way.”

“Whatever happened to not staring at my dick?” Rin retorts, but makes a mental note to be more thorough in his next shave.

“Whatever happened to fixing my shower?”

It’s interesting how petulant Haru gets the longer he is not immersed in his favoured element. Rin just throws him another dirty look, but dutifully goes back to trying to find out what’s wrong with Haru’s rogue shower. He pulls the lever, and discovers that it is, indeed, stuck.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Rin bends down and peers under the metal mechanism, and discovers a rubbery string wedged between the levers. “Someone stuck his goggle strap in here.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“Fuck if I know.” Rin tries untangling the knot with his uninjured hand, but the rubber material made it next to impossible. “God damn, this is _tight_.”

Haru steps behind him, and taps him on the shoulder. “Here, let me, I have slimmer fingers than you.”

Rin shakes his head, and renews his efforts. “I got this okay, just stay back, I can do—“

“What the _hell_ are you two doing?”

 _Shit_. The two of them freeze, and Rin slowly turns his head around to see none other than Mikoshiba Seijuuro staring at them, a look of absolute shock on his face. Haru does the same, and Mikoshiba’s eyes grow even larger.

“Nanase?”

“Good evening Mikoshiba-san,” Haru says flatly, straightening up.

“For the two of you clearly,” Mikoshiba answers, and only then does Rin realize the spectacle he and Haru must be displaying, what with him bent over and clutching the shower, and Haru standing strategically behind him, like a classic prison porno shot.

Rin immediately stands up, almost knocking the back of his head against Haru’s, and he hastily puts some very heterosexual distance between them as he faces his captain. “We’re not doing anything,” he blurts out, in a strange panicky voice he’s not used to hearing from himself. “I was just helping him fix his shower lever!”

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Mikoshiba is not convinced. “Oh, so that’s what you’re calling it these days.”

“I’m serious, look, some jerkwad thought it would be a good idea to wedge his goggle strap in here.”

“If that’s your way of trying to get me to bend over for you, sorry that’s not going to work.”

Biting back a scream of frustration, Rin turns to Haru. “Haru, say something.”

“We’re not fucking,” Haru supplies, succinct and candid as usual.

Mikoshiba crosses his arms. “What _were_ you doing?” he asks. “Wait, you know what, don’t answer that. Why are you even _here_ Nanase?”

Haru glances at Rin, who just gives him the “better you than me” look, seeing as Haru's deadpan approach to everything is apparently more trustworthy than Rin’s dramatic outbursts and Haru turns back to Mikoshiba. “Social call,” he answers, in a bored, blasé voice that couldn’t possibly fool anyone.  Rin kind of wants to hit him.

Mikoshiba raises an eyebrow. “I can see that.”

“Not that kind. I was trying to convince him to stop being a grade A jerk,” Haru explains, gesturing at Rin behind him with his thumb.

Rin would very much love to hurl back an equally juvenile repartee to that but it’s not really a lie, so he swallows his pride and stays quiet.

“So you were trying to convince him. In the shower,” Mikoshiba repeats slowly, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “In the same stall even. With your slim fingers possibly involved, if I heard correctly.”

Haru sighs, looking annoyed. “I wasn’t trying to convince him _here_ , I already did that in the locker room.”

Mikoshiba wrinkles his nose. “You did it in the locker room?”

“Yeah, after several rounds in the pool.”

Mikoshiba’s looks thunderstruck. “Several rounds in the _pool_?!”

“Yeah. Rin was tired after five—“

“Haru stop talking you’re making things worse,” Rin interrupts despairingly, before Haru can finish that sentence . Never had he imagined he would see the day when he would be yelling at Nanase Haruka to shut up, but today, it would seem, is full of surprises.

 _If you want something done right, do it yourself._ He squares his shoulders and turns back to Mikoshiba. “We raced in the pool, we had an argument in the locker room, reconciled,  and went here to take a shower because the locker room heaters weren’t working.”

“That’s what I was trying to say,” Haru says, frowning.

“Must be a pretty heated argument,” Mikoshiba observes, looking at Rin’s bandaged hand critically.

Rin looks away. “Don’t ask.”

“I won’t, as long as you get that healed quickly for the placement drills on Monday.”

“I will. Haru patched me up pretty well.”

Mikoshiba still looks like he’s consulting his mental rulebook for acceptable guest behaviour in dormitory bathrooms and adjusting it to account for surprise hydrophilliacs from rival schools caught doing questionable things with his star swimmer. In the end though, he shakes his head and shrugs. “Alright, I’ll buy it. Now that I think about it, it would be really weird if you’re doing anything nasty while discussing Captain Tripod.”

Haru immediately asks “How long have you been listening to us?” at the same time Rin yelps “Captain Tripod?!”

“I just caught the words ‘cock’s drag resistance’ and connected the dots,” Seijuurou answers Haru.

“Captain. _Tripod_ ,” Rin repeats, his tone as pointed as the glare he’s throwing in his captain’s direction.

Mikoshiba actually has the gall to smirk. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Matsuoka. What, did you actually think Nitori and I were shocked because we caught you pulling down his legskins with your teeth after practice hours that one time?”

“Oh... so that’s why it had those lacerations,” Haru muses, looking at Rin with narrowed, judging eyes. “It was _you_.”

Rin ignores Haru, instead choosing to direct his energy into keeping his eviscerating glower on Mikoshiba, despite the fire-alarm blush surely blooming on his face. “It was a logical conclusion.”

“Nah, we’re in an all-boys school, I see that kind of thing five times before breakfast.” Mikoshiba says dismissively, and then proceeds to make smarmy eyebrow acrobatics that Rin never ever wants to see again for the rest of his natural life. “What Tachibana’s packing down there though, I only see in the internet.”

Rin doesn’t know whether to be pissed off or proud—on one hand, he doesn’t appreciate Mikoshiba reminding him of that isolated incident which had Makoto refusing to fool around in semi-public spaces for an entire two weeks; on the other hand, as someone who has a primary stake on Makoto’s awe-inspiring man-bits, it’s perfectly natural to feel smug about it by mere association.

“Nitori came up with the nickname by the way,” Mikoshiba adds as an afterthought.

Pissed off, definitely. Rin’s scowl turns even stormier. He and Aichiro are going to have _words_ later.

“Don’t tease Makoto,” Haru says crossly to Mikoshiba. “He’s very sensitive about it.”

Mikoshiba shakes his head, looking completely baffled. “I can never understand why any self-respecting man would be embarrassed about having a large wang. I mean, if you got it flaunt it, right?”

“Maybe it’s because _some_ people would have certain objections with the flaunting,” Haru replies with a straight face, even as his shoulder slightly bumps into Rin’s, and it takes all of Rin’s self-control not to childishly stomp on Haru’s foot for that obvious baiting.

“I guess. I mean, he can emasculate more than half my team by dropping his legskins,” Mikoshiba muses, totally missing the point, not that Rin’s going to complain or anything. “Speaking of legskins, do his have some extradimensional space pocket to tuck that beast in, because that can’t be too comfy.”

“It’s not like he gets erections while swimming,” Haru replies. “Also, I help him pick out his suits, so he can get the ones that will help him feel the water most.”

Rin just stares back and forth between the two of them. Samezuka captain Mikoshiba Seijuuro is engaging Iwatobi vice-captain Nanase Haruka in a serious discussion about Iwatobi captain Tachibana Makoto’s _dick._ This day has officially reached the event horizon of weirdness, and it is _crushing_ Rin’s soul.

“Can you guys just stop discussing my boyfriend’s junk? Please?” he finally blurts out, before instincts take over and he “accidentally” beats both of them over the head with his shampoo bottle.

Both Haru and Mikoshiba immediately cease their discussion, the former looking at him knowingly, the latter one having the grace to at least look sheepish.

Of course, that’s when Rin realizes what he just said out loud, and he feels his cheeks grow hot for the nth time today.  “Uh… I mean…“

“Boyfriend, huh?” Haru says, head cocked to the side, face set in that blasé expression, except that Rin knows better. “That’s a new one.”

“You’re right, sorry Matsuoka, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Mikoshiba says, scratching the back of his head. He clears his throat as if to dispel any remaining traces of awkwardness, which is kind of hilarious, considering how he’s been going about this entire discussion without caring a whit about how Rin and Haru are both butt-naked. “Anyway Nanase, in case you haven’t realized it yet, it’s 10 minutes to midnight, and the last train for Iwatobi left 20 minutes ago.”

Haru, ever unfazed, just says: “…Oh.”

“Crap,” Rin curses under his breath. Damn, did they really take that long?

Mikoshiba’s lips quirk up into a half-smile. “Well, there’s no helping it I guess. You can stay over, Nanase, just squeeze yourself in with Matsuoka in his bunk.”

“What?!” Rin yelps. “You just accused me of cheating and now you’re telling him to sleep on my bed?”

Mikoshiba just looks at Rin like he couldn’t understand the flaws Rin’s trying to point out in his logic. “If you’re not doing anything wrong then it shouldn’t be an issue right?”

“Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time we slept together,” Haru adds.

Mikoshiba’s eyebrows oscillate into orbit at that so Rin hurriedly goes into damage control mode, before his impressionable captain gets any more gross ideas of the “Matsuoka Rin is a manipulative two-faced harlot” persuasion. “It’s not like that, we were kids, and Makoto accidentally threw hot chocolate all over his futon because a cockroach flew across the room,” he explains. “Since he’s the biggest, he took my futon while Haru and I shared the bed.”

“More like you and your shark hand puppet shared my bed, while I slept sideways on my left arm the whole night,” Haru mutters.

“Shut up Haru, we don’t talk about that anymore also that’s not the point.”

All of a sudden, Mikoshiba lets out a great booming laugh that echoes throughout the shower room, immediately drawing the other two’s attention towards him.. “Oh man, you two...”

Rin is _this close_ to getting a coronary.  “What? What _us_ two, how many times do I have to tell you—“

“No, it’s just… Nanase...” Mikoshiba grins at the two of them, looking at Haru with a disturbing mix of awe and befuddlement. “You and Tachibana, and you and Matsuoka, it’s just something else man.”

Haru raises one eyebrow. “Something else?”

“I can’t explain it, it’s like Tachibana’s your doting wife, and Matsuoka’s your cranky girlfriend, and they’re… boyfriends.”

There’s a few seconds of silence as Rin (and seemingly, Haru) try to wrap their heads around that criminally outrageous observation,  until Rin blurts out “That doesn’t even make any sense!” at the same time Haru says “That sounds about right.”

Rin smacks Haru on the back. “Stop encouraging him!”

Haru doesn’t even flinch. “Ow. So cranky.”

“Who wouldn’t be when you’re being so insufferable!”

“I see you’re not denying the girlfriend part then,” Seijuuro quips, smirking.

Rin opens his mouth to defend his manly honour, but he’s too overwhelmed with indignation to form words; so what comes out instead are unattractive sputtering noises not unlike those of a plane engine on the verge of dying.

“It’s kind of true though,” Haru says thoughtfully. “I do everything with you and Makoto except for the sex.”

Mikoshiba jostles Haru playfully with an elbow. “Aww, Nanase never tried it?”

Haru shook his head. “Never interested.”

Rin finally finds his voice. “Why am I the fucking _girlfriend_?” he half-shouts. “Haru’s the pretty one.”

“You’re the one who uses cherry blossom bath products and spends 15 minutes washing your hair,” Haru retorts.

“I’m sorry, I must have missed the memo that says having stellar personal hygiene means giving up my man-card,” Rin fires back.

“Hey, break it up you two,” Mikoshiba says sternly, getting in between the two of them. “Or go put some clothes on and take this somewhere else.”

Rin gives up, throwing his hands up in the air. “I am _done_ with this conversation,” he mutters as he sidesteps around Mikoshiba to go back to his own stall. “You guys can keep talking, I’m going to get myself clean.”

“Don’t forget your sakura body wash and peach shampoo,” Haru calls out behind him.

“SO DONE!” Rin yells as he takes his toiletries (cherry blossom with vanilla essence complete bath set with matching loofah ) and storms away to the farthest stall for his shower.

 

*

 

After Mikoshiba left, Haru used the stall Rin vacated (why they didn’t think about that obvious solution in the first place, Rin would never know), and they spent rest of their shower without much incident, except for the part where he and Haru had a heated argument over the aesthetic superiority of animal print vs polka dots, which only ended when Rin got fed up with Haru's horrible 80's era fashion taste and simply shoved his other pair of boxers (plain black with orange accents) into Haru’s chest and took the zebra pair for himself.

The lights are off when Rin opens the door to his room, the dim corridor light laying out their long dark shadows on the messy floor. He squints, and barely recognizes Ai’s sleeping form on the top bunk.

“If you really don’t want to share your bed, it’s fine, I’ll just use your sleeping bag and sleep on the floor,” Haru pipes up quietly.

Rin immediately feels guilty. “You’re not sleeping on the floor Haru, it’s too cold, you’ll get sick,” he says. “Besides, if you get sick, Makoto’s going to be upset, and he’s going to do that thing with his face- you know, that look that makes you feel like some asshole who stomps on baby chicks, and I’m going to feel bad.”

Haru shrugs, but brightens up a little nonetheless at the thought that he won’t be spending the night shivering on the cold hard ground and makes a beeline to Rin’s bunk. “Okay great, I’ll sleep with you.”

“Argh, don’t say it like  _that_ , people are going to get the wrong idea!” Rin hisses. Seriously, what is wrong with this guy?

“There’s no one here Rin.”

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” Ai pipes up from above.

Haru stops and looks up, as he recognizes the lump under the sheets to be an actual human being. “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” he says, and cocks his head to the side. “Nitori Aichiro isn’t it?”

Ai sits up straight, looking absolutely delighted that Haru remembered his name. “Yes! Did you and senpai have a good race, Nanase-san?”

“It was okay,” Haru answers, before plopping down unceremoniously on Rin’s bed. “Rin was a bit off.”

“We tied,” Rin snaps. “And that’s after I’ve done Captain’s mutant-level training regimen just four hours prior. “ He reaches for the light switch, glancing briefly at his roommate. “Hey, I’m turning on the lights so Haru can get settled in with us, okay?”

“No problem, senpai,” Ai says, reflexively shielding his eyes when fluorescent light floods the room. “You can take your time, Nanase-san.”

“Thanks, I won’t take long,” Haru answers. He opens his bag, takes out his day clothes and folds them, before putting them on Rin’s computer chair. As he is draping his pants over the back of the seat, his phone drops from the pocket, and Haru deftly catches it in his hand before it clatters onto the floor.

At that exact moment, Rin’s own phone rings.

“That’s Makoto,” Haru says, almost immediately. “Answer it.”

Rin raises an eyebrow and retrieves his phone from his back pocket.  Sure enough, Makoto’s name flashes across his screen. He looks up at Haru, eyes narrowed. “Okay that’s just freaky, how did you know that?”

Haru holds up his phone which shows “10 missed calls, 7 unread messages from Tachibana Makoto” on the display. “He’s going to ask you where I am.”

“No shit,” Rin mutters, as his panic returns full time. He’s pretty much established that he and Makoto need to have a good long talk to fix things, but he was expecting to have some sort of leeway for him to prepare his “sorry for being an asshole” speech—he wasn’t expecting to have to answer two minutes after he’s allowed Haru to share his bunk.

The phone stops ringing and Rin doesn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, he’s technically not behaving out of the ordinary. He hasn’t answered any of Makoto’s texts and if Makoto has no idea where Haru is, Rin has no discernible obligation to answer anything. On the other hand, if he does answer… what the hell is he supposed to say, “Hi sorry for ignoring you and behaving like an ass; PS: I’m gonna be spending the night with your best friend who, by the way, I used to want to bone, hope you’re okay with that.” Haha nope, fuck that.

“He’s going to call again. You should tell him the truth.”

How does Haru _do_  that? Rin glares at Haru but it’s lacking heat, panic overwhelming any irritation he’s harbouring at the moment. “Which one?”

“Everything. Though you can skip the part where I tried to kiss you,” Haru answers, which elicits a surprised gasp from Ai. “I’ll tell him that myself.”

Rin shoots his roommate a hard, silencing glare. “It’s a long story and it’s not _like_ that,” he says. Then he turns to Haru again. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s only bad if we’re actually doing anything wrong,” Haru argues stubbornly. “Which we are not because I really don’t want to be doing these things with you.”

“Gee, thanks for the ego boost, you insufferable bastard,” Rin huffs. “You probably kiss like a dead fish anyway.”

“Implying that you have kissed dead fish, but nothing surprises me anymore.”

Rin scowls. “You know, I think I liked you better when you were still talking about water in disturbingly erotic superlatives.”

Before  Haru can come up with an appropriate comeback, Rin’s phone rings again.

“Go talk to him,” Haru says instead, face back to its usual earnest calm. He grabs Rin’s wrist and stares straight into his eyes. “And be _honest_ , Rin. If you lie, you lose.”

Rin lowers his gaze to the ground, and for once doesn’t wrench his arm away. “I will and I won’t.”

Haru nods, and lets him go.  Rin takes a deep breath, the techno-metal riffs of Takota’s Satellite still blaring from his phone’s speakers. Then, he hurries out the door, and heads over towards the lobby.

Before the last ring ends, he presses the answer button.

“Makoto.”

“Rin!” The sound of his name in Makoto’s voice (however frantic) instantly warms Rin’s heart and he realizes just how much he’s missed it. “Oh I’m so glad you answered. Have you heard from Haru? I dropped by his house tonight and he’s not there and he’s not answering his phone and I don’t know what I’m going to do—“

“--He’s here,” Rin interrupts quietly, as he settles down on one of the couches.

“…What?”

“Haru came here. He wanted to swim.”

“But it’s snowing outside!”

“Uh, we have an indoor heated pool?”

“Oh right. But isn’t it way past visiting hours?”

“Yeah.” Rin pauses, chewing on his bottom lip, before adding. “Captain caught us actually.”

Makoto’s voice is laced with concern. “Are you in trouble?”

“Actually, he let me off the hook.” Come to think of it, Mikoshiba’s been really lenient on Rin lately. “He’s going to let Haru sleep over.”

At the assurance that his best friend isn’t going to be wandering around the snow-ridden streets at this time of night, Makoto instantly relaxes. “Oh, that’s good,” he says, sighing with relief. “That’s really nice of Mikoshiba-san, I’ll be sure to thank him properly next joint practice. Does he like chocolate chip cookies? Mom always bakes extra on Wednesdays—“

“—You don’t have to do that, Makoto,” Rin interrupts firmly. “He doesn’t require a reward for being a decent human being.”

“But he let you off even if you broke the rules!”

“So? A simple thank you is enough.”

Makoto sounds skeptical but he relents eventually. “Alright, if you say so.”

A long pause ensues, muted and distant sounds, like the low thrum of the building’s heaters and the occasional noise and laughter from the dorm rooms stark against the silence. Rin looks out the window, watching the falling snow, suddenly reminded of the existing precariousness in their current situation. He wonders when they’re going to bring _it_ up, if they’re going to bring it up at all. 

Rin hears Makoto fidgeting over the phone. “So um anyway…” Makoto starts nervously, and Rin holds his breath, readying himself for the inevitable. This is it, this is the moment he's been waiting for, the moment where they'll finally get this whole miscommunication bullshit cleared up.

“…where is Haru going to sleep?”

Rin practically feels himself deflate, punctured by a stab of disappointment. Guess not. He can’t blame Makoto though, considering he’s the only one who made an effort to make any sort of communication after that night, only to be met with the cold shoulder.  It’s Rin who needs to take charge this time. He owes Makoto that.  

“Well, we don’t have any spare rooms,” he answers finally. “So he’s going to squeeze in beside me.”

“Oh okay. That’s great!”

Rin frowns at how absolutely fine Makoto sounds with that arrangement. “So that’s in my bed, just so we’re clear,” he clarifies. It’s not the way he initially wanted to broach the subject but it’s a workable segue, even if it’s a bit misleading.

“Yeah. Thanks for taking him in Rin. He might get sick otherwise.”

Wow, does nothing ever faze this guy? Rin’s more than a little ticked now. “Seriously? Your best friend who, mind you, I originally wanted to screw, is going to sleep on my bed, and you’re _thanking_ me?”

Makoto hesitates for a second, and when he speaks, his tone is imbued with an unfamiliar defensiveness, one that doesn’t sit well with Rin. “… Well what do you think I should say? Make him sleep on the floor?”

“I don’t know!” Rin says exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe protest or something.” _I just want a reaction, anything, to show that I am still something to you,_ he doesn’t say.

Makoto sighs. “Why would I do that? What you and Haru do is your business, Rin.”

Makoto’s tone is so polite, so casual, so empty of his usual concern and it’s _killing_ Rin.  “So that’s it then?” he scoffs. “You’re just going to let that happen.”

“Why? I don’t have a say in what either of you do. I don’t have that right.”

Rin wants to say something drastic and terribly maudlin, like _You do. I just want you to fight for me, even if it means fighting ME,_ but he figures this is not the time and place for something like that. “What makes you think that?”

“Don’t fix what’s not broken, Rin,” Makoto replies coolly. “That’s what you told me.”

And finally, there it is. Rin wasn’t expecting Makoto to repeat his own words to him, and use it against him, but it’s better than keeping up this ludicrous dance of skirting the issue. “You’re the one who said ‘Don’t fuck it up,” he shoots back.

“Yeah, and what did you do?”

Rin is just as surprised with the bite in Makoto’s words as the words themselves. “… Holy crap,” he breathes. He couldn’t believe it.  “Are you—are you actually, honest to god telling me it’s _my_ fault?”

“…”

Rin’s pretty sure he’s going crazy right now, because instead of feeling furious about getting all the blame again, or feeling scared at the idea of being the object of Makoto’s rare show of anger, he’s actually feeling _pleased_ about it, which is all sorts of fucked up. “Fucking finally. See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he says, grinning. “I’m so proud of you, you have no idea.”

Makoto stays quiet for a few more moments, but when he finally speaks up, his voice is so _cold_ , it freezes the grin on Rin’s face.

“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave Haru in your care. Good night Rin.” Then, without waiting for Rin to answer, Makoto hangs up. He actually _hangs_ up.

Rin stares at his phone in disbelief. What the _hell_ just happened? Cursing under his breath, he presses the call button again… only for the call to terminate after the third ring. So not only did Makoto hang up on him, he is now actively _shunning_ him.

Rin bolts up from his seat. His first recourse is to ask Haru to intercede for him, but Haru will probably be pissed off that Rin screwed up again, and Rin couldn’t bear disappointing Haru after everything the other boy has done for him.

So not knowing what else to do, he presses call again. This time, it doesn’t terminate. Instead, Makoto seems to just let it ring—which means he probably put it on silent and placed his phone somewhere far away. It keeps up for a full minute before it goes to voicemail and Rin gets treated to the sound of Makoto’s mellow voice reciting his voicemail message:

_Hey there, this is Tachibana Makoto. I’m really sorry, I won’t be able to take your call right now, but leave me a message after the tone and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Have a great day!_

“What the fuck Makoto, I know you’re out there, answer your goddamn phone,” Rin says as soon as he hears the beep.

He presses end call and waits for 30 seconds. Nothing. Rin bites his lip and tries calling again. The phone keeps ringing and Rin is once again greeted by the voicemail.

“Come on Makoto, you have to help me out here okay, what the hell did I do wrong now?”

Still nothing. Rin’s so high strung now, it’s a miracle he hasn’t snapped in two yet. He waits a full minute this time and when nothing comes, presses call again, yelling into the phone as soon as the beep sounded.

“Makoto if you don’t answer your phone, I am going out there and taking a cab at this time of night. In my sleep wear. I’m probably going to use up my whole week’s allowance for it but whatever. When I get there, I’m going to throw rocks at your window until you come down. And if you ignore me, I’m going to park my butt on your fucking doorstep and I’m not going to move, even if it means freezing said butt off.”  He pauses, finger hovering over the end call key, and then adds: “Also I’m not taking Haru with me.”

Rin hates himself for resorting to such below-the-belt tactics, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Just because Rin previously attacked Makoto for his guilt-complex doesn’t mean he can’t use it for when it matters most. He’ll make up for it somehow.

Seven more seconds to go. Rin throws away all his pretenses, lets his desperation seep into his words. “So please,” he whispers. “ _Talk_ to me.”

He presses end call and leans back against the wall, cradling the phone loosely in his hand. This time, he waits a full five minutes, practically burning a trail on the carpeted floor of their lobby with his frantic pacing.

He isn’t even surprised anymore, when his last attempt gives him nothing but the wretched busy tone. He reigns in the urge to bash his head against the wall and knock himself unconscious. He has no idea what he had done to warrant Makoto treating him like this, but whatever it is, it must have been really offensive to get Makoto to actually _ignore_ him, like the proverbial taste of his own medicine. There’s no helping it; looks like he needs Haru. Again.

Slowly, he turns around, phone nearly slipping off his grasp as he begins his walk of shame back to his room, already envisioning Haru’s disappointed face.  

Then, his phone rings.

Rin stops right in his tracks, almost dropping his phone. Without even looking at the caller, he brings it to his ear, and presses the answer button so hard he might have possibly damaged his screen.

“Mako—“

“That’s not fair, Rin.”

Rin shudders at the calmness of Makoto’s tone, and he swallows, his grip around the phone trembling. Still waters run deep, and this is a side of Makoto Rin has never even imagined before—it’s just four words, spoken quietly, but there’s an underlying chill to it that makes Rin's insides quail nervously, a calm before the storm.

“Look, I just want to talk to you okay?”

“Why? So you can make fun of me again?”

“What the fuck—I wasn’t making fun of you!” Rin sputters heatedly. “Why would you even _think_ that?”

Makoto’s tone remains politely dangerous. “For the past three days Rin, you never acknowledged me _once_. I gave you the space you wanted, and the only reason I called you again in the first place is because I’ve been worried _sick_ about Haru.”

“Look, I’m sorry about that I really am—”

“—And then the one time I try to point out that maybe it isn’t my fault,” Makoto barrels on, “It’s met with mockery from the person who told me how important it was to stop and think about myself sometimes.”

Rin’s flinches at the bitterness in Makoto’s tone “Makoto, I wasn’t mocking you, I swear—“

“—How were you _not_ , Rin? Even before that, you were making insinuations about getting Haru in your bed, and about how I should react. What was that even all about, what were you trying to _prove_?”

Rin knew it, that ill-advised move is biting him in the ass now, blowing up his supposedly harmless ribbing into something so much worse. He has never seen Makoto like this. Rin’s not used to being on the defensive, and the fact that it’s _Makoto_ of all people who isn’t letting him get a word in edgewise is so surreal on so many levels, Rin has to physically slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from letting his frustration take over and make him say something he will most likely regret later, seeing as he’s apparently developed an interesting habit of trying out new and spectacular ways to fuck up.

Makoto seems to get the clue and keeps talking. “And you know, tonight, I just realized that there’s no helping it, I can’t keep pretending that things are going to get any better…” He trails off, breathing heavily, before making a small, wretched noise of frustration.  “This isn’t working out.”

Rin finally uncovers his mouth to try to speak out. “Look, if you can just let me explain myself properly—“

“No, I mean _we’re_ not working out.”

Rin’s phone nearly snaps in half at the force with which he tightens his grip.

“I’ve been thinking about it for the past three days,” Makoto continues, when Rin doesn’t say anything, dumbstruck at the implications of Makoto’s words. “ …And it just dawned on me that I’m making expectations that I have no right setting. And for all the things I said, I really value your friendship, Rin, so if this is going to hurt it, let’s just… stop.”

Rin doesn’t want to hear it. “No,” he growls. “No let’s not.” He pushes himself back from the wall, and begins pacing on the carpeted floor, because if he stays still any longer, he’d crumble into something that would give up and retreat, when what he needs to be is someone who will keep fighting.

Makoto sounds exhausted. “Rin, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Shut up, you can’t just decide that for yourself when you don’t even know anything!”

“I know we want different things.”

“Well, you know jack _shit_ , because I want what you want!”

Rin tries to control his breathing, but every exhale stutters out of him, and he suddenly feels so stupid, mired in self-defeat. That wasn’t the way he intended for it to come out. Wow, if they gave awards for dumbshit confessions of the century, Rin would be a shoo-in for top prize.

Makoto’s the first to break the silence. “What do you know of what I want?”

As far as reactions to thinly-veiled confessions go, Makoto’s reaction could definitely be worse. “Haru told me,” Rin admits quietly. It pains him to admit to Haru’s interference, but he has nothing else to fall back on. If Haru hadn’t come and knocked some sense into Rin, who knows how far this self-inflicted tension can stretch, until one of them snaps and says something irredeemable?

“Haru told you,” Makoto repeats hollowly. “And you believed him.”

Rin feels a plummeting sensation in his stomach. “… Am I not supposed to?” he asks, his voice cracking a little. Fuck, what if Haru was _wrong_ , what if he’s been setting himself up for disappointment from the very start, what if it’s Haru Makoto still wants after all this time—

Makoto’s voice cuts through his ricocheting thoughts like a Ginsu knife. “You believed Haru,” he repeats, sounding accusatory, sounding resentful, sounding jealous, sounding everything Makoto should not. “But you ignored _me._ ”

Rin has absolutely no idea how to respond to that. “I… I’m sorry," he says lamely.

Makoto doesn’t say anything, which is just as well, because sorry doesn’t explain anything, and sorry can’t justify all the hurt he must have put Makoto through, sorry can’t take this whole stupid misunderstanding away. Rin is biting his lip so hard, he’s tasting copper. _Be honest,_ Haru had told him. _If you lie, you lose_. “I was angry,” he explains. “And hurt.”

At this, Makoto’s tone softens. “Hurt? Why?“

“When you told me not to fuck up, I took it as a warning that you want to keep the status quo,” Rin replies quietly. “I thought you meant you don’t want things to change.”

“But things are already changing, Rin,” Makoto says slowly, his voice in equal parts wonder and sorrow. He hesitates briefly, the moment suspended, like the split second before gravity takes over the fall. Then...

“...And I don’t want it to stop.”

Rin goes still, the phone almost dropping from his hands as his fingers go slack. He’s pretty sure his heart skipped a beat or something equally clichéd. “Say that again.”

Makoto pauses and lets out a long exhale. “If things are changing between us,” he says slowly, his voice quiet but with an underlying hint of urgency, as if he’s using all his courage to say it. “I want to change with it.” His voice trembles a bit, but he doesn’t hesitate. “I want _us_ to change with it.”

How do human emotions even work, Rin’s pretty sure this isn’t possible. One minute he was this close to repeatedly running headfirst into a wall to put himself out of his misery; the next minute he feels so light, almost weightless, like he could float up the ceiling and out the window and into the moon, and Haru would be forced to sleep on top of him to stop that from happening.

The logical part of his brain drags him back down to earth. “So when you said, ‘don’t fuck it up,’ you meant…”

“I meant, I want to keep being one of those things that have worked out for you. And if it means taking that next step, then I want that too.” Makoto’s voice goes softer but thicker, filled with so much emotion. “I’ve wanted that for some time now.”

 _I’ve wanted that for some time now._ Rin finds himself leaning back, letting the wall catch his weight. He’s going to need that wall to stay grounded, especially with that whole floating thing going on. His hand is shaking a little, pressing the phone a bit too deeply to his ear, but he’s smiling so widely, it almost hurts. “Well why didn’t you say that in the first place? All this time, I thought you meant you just didn’t see me as anything more than that devastatingly hot friend you like to fuck.”

Makoto is silent for a while and when he speaks next, his voice is so horrified, panicky and so _Makoto,_ that Rin almost laughs.  “You thought that I just wanted— ohmygod, I’m so _sorry._ You must’ve thought I was so callous, I totally misunderstood—“

Rin immediately cuts him off. “Oh no you’re not taking everything on yourself again, okay—it’s me who jumped to the conclusions—“

“—I jumped to conclusions too!”

“Yeah, but I was the one who ignored you, and refused to talk to you, and behaved like a generic tool  when you were just trying to be friends again,” Rin insists firmly, and waits for Makoto to realize there’s no way he can use those facts against himself.

After much fidgeting from the other end, Makoto concedes. “We’re both at fault,” he says, though he sounds a bit petulant about it. “Maybe 40/60 split.”

“No, 20/80.”

“30/70,” Makoto bargains.

It’s not enough, but it’s a start. “Alright,” Rin agrees. “30/70.”

“I can’t believe we spent three days thinking the worst of each other,” Makoto sighs, sounding mad at himself.

“We both suck at getting our point across,” Rin says, and his mind flashes back to that dumb discussion about cats in the locker room. “This probably wouldn’t have happened if we talked face to face.”

“Well, we’re seeing each other tomorrow,” Makoto says brightly. “I mean… you’re still treating me to steak right?”

Rin grins. “Yes, of course.”

Makoto’s smile is palpable in his voice. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“As you should. Trust me, you’re in for a real treat.” Rin makes a mental note to stock up on supplies tomorrow before going home, already imagining the culinary masterpiece he shall bequeath to Makoto. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and all that. Not that he thinks he needs any more help in that department, but it’s about time someone who isn’t Haru gave Makoto the spoiling he refuses to take for himself.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Makoto replies.

“So…” Rin starts, not knowing what to say, but wanting to find an excuse to stay on the line. To be perfectly honest, he doesn’t want to stay on he line—he wants to do what he threatened to do in his last voicemail, and take a cab to Makoto’s house right this instant, only instead of throwing rocks at windows, he’ll be throwing himself at Makoto, and instead of the doorstep, he’d be parking his butt over those glorious thighs. But it’s well past midnight, making the idea grossly impractical, because he’d be breaking more rules which Makoto would not approve of. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“… Well, maybe,” Makoto admits. “I’d rather say them in person though.”

Rin perks up. “So secretive. Are they good or bad things?”

“Good, definitely.”

If Rin happens to pump his fist in the air, it’s certainly not because of the intense fluttery sensations occupying his lower abdomen right now, and if it is, it’s a perfectly legit, dignified reaction, seeing as  Rin could always do with more good things. And because he can’t help himself, he also asks: “Are they romantic things?”

Makoto takes a moment to think about it. “Maybe. Embarrassing, more likely.”

“Embarrassing? You? Okay, now I really want to hear it.”

Makoto doesn’t budge. “I’ll tell you when I see you. I promise.”

“You’re so unfair,” RIn complains, knowing full well how whiny he sounds.  “You know I’m terrible at this whole delayed gratification thing.”

“Yeah well, deal with it,” Makoto says with a teasing air of finality. “And stop glaring out the window, Rin.”

“I was not!” Rin replies heatedly, and promptly redirects said glare to his shoes instead.

“Okay, _now_ you’re not.”

Rin groans out loud. “Ohmygod, how the hell do you _do_ that?”

Makoto laughs. “I don’t know how exactly,” he admits. Then he adds, with the sort of possessive confidence that makes Rin’s knees turn to jelly: “I just know _you_ , Rin.”

 _Yes, you do_ , Rin thinks fondly, and it just dawns on him that this is the first time it made him giddy to know how transparent he is to somebody, after years of building icy walls around himself. It feels wonderful, liberating even.

Before Rin can come up with a non-embarrassing way to answer that, Makoto clears his throat and speaks again. “Anyway Rin, can I talk to Haru?”

Rin pouts, even though Makoto can’t see him. “What, don’t trust me with him?”

“I trust both of you,” Makoto assures him. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all.”

Rin smiles wryly. It’s amazing how one shift in his and Makoto’s relationship paradigm has changed his opinion about Makoto’s eternal mothering of his best friend.  It has stopped being a point of exasperation now, and has become more of a shared fondness, a reassuring constance Rin can gladly work around and even empathize with, given recent events.

“Okay, hold on.” Rin gets up and starts heading towards the dorm, somehow managing not to skip all the way back, despite the terrible compulsion to do so. Ai is talking when he opens the door.

“…Rin-senpai was such a hit in the maid café, we got twice our projected profits and—“

“—Haru, Makoto wants to talk to you,” Rin interrupts loudly, shooting Aichiiro the gimlet eye before tossing his phone to Haru, who catches it nonchalantly, making no comment with regards to the embarrassing stories Ai has most likely imparted to him during Rin’s absence. Then, to Rin’s utmost surprise, Haru just burrows under the covers, making no move to leave his comfy spot on Rin’s bed, instead of relocating someplace else to talk to Makoto.

Rin raises an eybrow. Okay then. He’s not about to let Haru kick him out of his own room, so with a grumble, he climbs in and squeezes himself into the remaining space beside Haru. It’s a bit of a snug fit but it’s not really uncomfortable- he’s used to having someone much bigger beside him after all.

Haru doesn’t even budge and just curls in closer to the wall, as if that’s going to give him any more privacy.

“Makoto.”

Rin tries hard not to listen to the conversation but it’s kind of impossible, since Haru’s not exactly making any efforts to be discreet.

“Yeah I think I’ll be okay...  Yes, Rin lent me his clothes... Yes, including underwear… What does it matter if I’m wearing his boxers, I wear yours all the time… Rin’s fit me better anyway, yours are too breezy… It’s warm enough, Rin has an electric blanket. Try cuddling? I don’t know. His bones stick out too much. Not cuddle material.”

Rin kicks him. “Excuse you, Makoto would beg to disagree.”

Haru kicks him back.  “His feet are cold,” he tells Makoto, ignoring Rin’s quiet sound of outrage. “You’re a lot warmer.”

“You ungrateful little—“

Haru suddenly turns around, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “I’m going to tell him, Rin.”

Rin stops at the unexpected segue, and is just about to ask Haru what the hell he’s talking about when Haru turns back to the phone:

“By the way, I tried to kiss him earlier to test him—“

“—I PUSHED HIM INTO THE POOL FOR THAT—“ Rin yells into the phone over Haru’s shoulder, thoroughly mortified at Haru’s unbelievable bluntness.

“—and I just want you to know because his roommate told me that this is the type of thing that gets blown out of proportion all the time.”

Rin gives the bottom of Ai’s bunk a vicious punch with his good hand, and Ai makes a terrified squeak from above him. First, it’s Mikoshiba, then Haru, and now Ai? Traitors, the entire fucking lot of them.

Haru’s voice turns softer, apologetic. “You’re not mad are you?... I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again.”

Rin hears the muffled sound of Makoto just chuckling into the phone and lets out a sigh of relief.

Haru does the same, and the fact that he’s similarly apprehensive about that reckless stunt he pulled comforts Rin a little.  “Rin’s really faithful to you, you know,” Haru says, a genuine, if a bit obvious attempt to make Makoto feel even better. “He told me so.”

Rin elbows him. “Haru!” he hisses.  

Haru turns just enough to glare at Rin. “What, are you denying it?”

“No, but there are some things I’d rather tell him myself,” Rin complains.

Haru shrugs and tosses the phone back at RIn. “Then go tell him yourself.”

Rin blanches and shoves the phone back at him. “No, I’m saving everything for tomorrow. Go finish whatever you need to say.”

Haru just rolls his eyes at him, before taking the phone back. “Sorry about that. Are you feeling better now?... I’m glad. Sorry for making you worry… Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about the twins, I’ll take care of them tomorrow… Good night Makoto.”

Haru presses end call and gives the phone back to Rin. “Are you and Makoto good?” he asks, as Rin returns his abused phone to his bedside table, after plugging it to the charger.

“We’re getting there,” Rin replies honestly, as he settles back under the blankets. 

Haru seems to be satisfied with that. “Good. Okay, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Me too,” Rin says, and then faces up to talk to the other occupant in the room. “Go to sleep too Ai. We’re going to have a good long talk on Monday by the way.”

Ai responds with a very loud, totally convincing snore, and Rin just smirks, leaning back against his pillow.

He’s about to close his eyes, when he suddenly remembers something. “Oh and Haru, just a quick disclaimer.”

“What.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of the phenomenon of morning wood among healthy virile boys like ourselves,” Rin says, somehow managing to say all these with a straight face. After that traumatizing spiel in the shower room earlier, he’s pretty sure he’s been rendered impervious to real talk about men and their dangly bits. “So in the likely event that I somehow press into you at some point in the night, don’t think of it as an invitation or anything.”

“Yeah, I know the drill. I’ll just pretend it’s your pencil case jabbing me in the back,” Haru answers dismissively.

Rin tries not to think about how this implies that Haru’s already used to random… pencil cases poking him in the middle of the night, and decides to grill Makoto on this some other time. “Yeah you do… that,” he says. “Alright, let’s sleep.”

Haru mutters something along the lines of _finally_ , and the room is silent once again.

In the darkness, Rin watches the faint outline of Haru’s back, and thinks about how Haru’s always had his, saving him without fail. Unable to help himself, he speaks up again. “Haru?”

“What?” Haru sounds irritated, but Rin’s too happy to care.

Rin ducks and nudges Haru on the back of his neck with his forehead.  “Thanks for coming.”

Haru’s shoulders relax visibly, and he seems to curl in closer towards the wall. Rin just _knows_ Haru’s feeling embarrassed but for once, he decides to let it slide. “You’re welcome. Good night Rin.”

Still smiling, Rin turns around, the warmth of Haru’s back seeping through his own, and finally closes his eyes.

“Good night, Haru.”

~tbc~

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haru has a hard time waking Rin up and Rin bonds with Nagisa and Rei over cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) This chapter contains some juicy ReiGisa if you guys are into that.
> 
> 2.) To everyone who read that little preview on twitter, please forget about it and consider it a preview to chapter 9 instead- the word count of this chapter was getting ridiculous so I cut it. Hence, this chapter is mostly Rin's friendship with everyone else, so... not a lot of Makoto. I know, I'm sorry, I've pussyfooted so long about their resolution but I promise to make up for it on the next chapter.
> 
> 3.) Everyone of you needs to check out [Shaed's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaed/pseuds/Shaed) [AU take on Denial Chapter 7 ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1793536) because it will make you happy in the pants.

Rin wakes up slowly to find his nose pressed into the back of someone’s neck, and his upper arm wedged under said someone’s armpit. Disgruntled, he breathes in, and takes in the faint scent of chlorine, clean sweat and that cheap locker room soap he refuses to use. He makes a face when dark hair sweeps across his eyes, irritating his nose.

Belatedly, it registers to him that this is Haru, who he realizes he is totally squishing against the wall.

He should probably move, or give the other boy some space. He’s taking up almost two thirds of the bunk, and Haru’s sleeping on his side right next to the wall.

But it’s just so _warm_ and he’s still so sleepy and comfortable, he doesn’t want to budge. Haru’s not complaining so it must be okay right?

“Pencil case,” Haru mutters, shattering the illusion.

Rin scowls. “Shut up, you signed up for this,” he grumbles sleepily, but turns around all the same, giving Haru his much needed space. He blindly grabs his other pillow, which had fallen on the floor, and proceeds to hug that instead, determined to extend his dreamy blissful haze for as long as possible.

Except it doesn’t happen because Haru chooses that time to sit up instead of generously taking Rin’s unspoken offer to sleep some more, and proceeds to shake Rin with the kind of energy that should be illegal this early in the morning. “Wake up Rin,” he says. “I need to get home.”

Rin grumpily shrugs Haru’s hand off. “Then go, jeez. Leave me alone, you made me race you last night, my hand is fucked up and I just want to sleep in for once in my life.”

“I can’t leave without you escorting me.”

“Then sneak out, you’re a natural at everything right? Go naturally sneak out.”

Haru pushes him with both hands this time. “You’re not making any sense. Wake up.”

Rin scoots closer to the edge of the bed, and hugs his pillow tighter. “Don’t wanna.”

“You need to go home too.”

“No I don’t,” Rin retorts childishly, burying his face deeper into the pillow and ignoring Haru’s continuous prodding. “Not right now.”

“Yes you do. It’s Saturday,” Haru insists, sounding really annoyed now. “You promised to feed Makoto steak.”

Rin refuses to budge, though he does feel a reflexive flutter in his heart at the reminder that he’s seeing Makoto later. “That’s tonight. I don’t need ten hours to cook steak. It’s like two minutes on each side for medium rare.”

“But—“

“But nothing. It’s the weekend, it’s cold outside and my bunk is warm.” Rin punctuates this point by reaching out and grabbing Haru around the waist, pushing him back on the bed in one go. “Half an hour of extra sleep won’t kill you,” he says, unrelenting, even as Haru struggles slightly under his arm.

Eventually Haru stops fighting, sighing in resignation. “Alright, fine.”

Rin smiles victoriously as Haru resettles his body weight on the other half of Rin’s bunk. Satisfied, he closes his eyes, already feeling himself relapsing into  blissful sleep...

And then…

“WHAT THE HELL—HARUUUUUUU!” Rin yells, nearly falling off his bed as he violently twists around to escape that sharp piercing  _pain._

“Have you even shopped for ingredients?” Haru asks conversationally as if he didn’t just _pinch_ Rin’s ass with his iron tweezer fingers.

“No, but it won’t take me ten hours to shop for ingredients and cook steak,” Rin snaps, as he rubs his smarting behind. “You just pinched my ass, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

“But you’re not only cooking steak,” Haru replies, completely ignoring the other, much more important bit of Rin’s response.

Rin snorts. “I don’t need ten hours to cook steak,” he says. “Also you pinched my ass and you need to explain yourself.”

Haru glares a little, before huffing and looking away. “You weren’t waking up. I had to take drastic measures.”

“Your drastic measures _hurt_ , and involve delicate body parts reserved for Makoto.”

“It was the part that was easiest to reach.”

“My arm was right _on top_ of you.”

“Your arm muscles are too hard,” Haru retorts. “Your butt has jiggly bits more conducive for pinching.”

Rin’s jaw falls open. _Jiggly_ bits? Oh no, he fucking _didn’t._   All traces of sleep immediately flee Rin’s consciousness as he sits up, the blankets flying off of him towards the foot of the bed. “Did you just imply that I have a fat ass huh, is that what you’re saying?” he demands, rounding on Haru, who has leaned back against the wall, laconically staring back at him.

“I didn’t say—“ 

“I lift my own weight in squats and leg presses _four times_ a _week_ ,” Rin interrupts, as he rights himself up, kneeling on the bed, giving him an immediate height advantage over Haru. “I have fantastic glutes, and they are _firm_ , NOT jiggly.”

Haru shrugs. “It was soft when I pinched it.”

“That’s because you only took a small part!” Rin retorts. “Here.” Without further ado, he grabs Haru’s hand and slaps it on his left butt cheek. “Feel it for yourself.”

Both of Haru’s eyebrows raise at this, looking as alarmed as he ever gets. “Rin, what are you doing?”

“I’m seducing you with my aura of smooth--  what the fuck do you think?” Rin snaps. He’s vaguely aware that he’s probably acting like a crazy person right now but he his ego just took an undeserved hit here.  “You just insulted me, so I’m going to make you eat your words.”

“You jumped down my throat for pinching you, and now you’re telling me to cop a feel?”

“This is different!” Rin says with more heat than he intended. “That was you being a dick, and now this is me, proving the real deal about my buttocks’ constitution, which you falsely implied as _fat_.”

Haru looks at his hand for a few moments before skeptically lifting his gaze back to Rin. “You’re really serious about this?”

Rin rolls his eyes. “Like a heart attack. Just grab my ass, Nanase.”

Haru lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, relenting, and squeezes experimentally.

“You’re clenching.”

“All the better to make you notice my gluteus maximus.”

“What, you mean that hard strip near your butt crack?”

“How do you live under my sister’s management without even knowing where the gluteus maximus is?”

“Well unlike her brother, she doesn’t habitually go around asking people to grab her butt to prove a point.”

“Good, because if I ever get wind of you even thinking of _touching_ my sister’s ass, I’m going to kick yours so hard, you’ll feel it in your grave.”

“You know, if I had only known you’d react so violently to a little pinch, I would’ve just pushed you off the bed.”

“If you did that, I would tell on you to Makoto and he would give you his frowny face of crushing disappointment and you are going to feel bad.”

“Alright, fine, if I admit to you being a hard-ass, will you drop the subject?”

“Very funny. That ‘hard ass’ is the result of 5 sets of squats,  15 repetitions each, with a minimum free weight of 40 kg, and you should be jealous because yours could never.“

“Not really, that sounds like too much effort.”

“You just don’t want to admit that pound for pound, my ass is way stronger than yours.”

“What’s to admit, when he knows exactly what kind of pounding your ass can take?”

Rin nearly falls off the bed for the third time when he hears Mikoshiba’s voice by the door, and he hastily dislodges Haru’s hand off his butt as he scrambles to turn around.

“Mikoshiba-san,” Haru says nodding, as if he wasn’t caught in another compromising position with Rin for the second time in 8 hours.

“You ever heard of knocking, Captain?” Rin says, hoping the ire in his voice would somehow mitigate the heat flaring in  his cheeks. 

Mikoshiba leans against the doorframe, arms folded.  “I would, if you two weren’t arguing loud enough to be heard in the hallway.”

“Sorry,” Haru says. “Rin threw a fit when I tried to wake him up.”

“Which I wouldn’t have if you weren’t so _handsy_ —“

Mikoshiba clears his throat. “Spare me the scintillating details, Matsuoka. Nanase, you need to get out of here in 15 minutes, there’s going to be an inspection, and it’s the curmudgeon guard on duty today.” 

Haru nods. “Understood,” he says, and immediately gets off Rin’s bed to grab his clothes from Rin’s computer chair.

“Wait, I’m coming with you too,” Rin says, and makes a beeline to his closet.

Thankfully, Mikoshiba leaves them alone to change in peace, but not before throwing the two of them another weird look before closing the door.

Nitori chooses that time to wake up (or show signs of having been awake for quite some time now, seeing as Rin and Haru weren’t exactly making an effort to be quiet earlier), rising halfway up on his elbows, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Senpai? What’s going—“

Rin immediately cuts him off. “You’re the witness okay, proof that Haru and I did not do anything that would constitute as cheating on Makoto,” he declares. Better to play it safe if he can, seeing as Mikoshiba has ratted Rin out to Makoto before. Granted, it’s usually about Rin’s abysmal performance in training due to emotional handicaps, but still.

Nitori looks startled, and his eyes dart back and forth between the two of them. “Uh… okay…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell Makoto I only touched your butt to spare your vanity,” Haru says, his head popping out of a thick blue and white sweater. “Also I’m borrowing your boxers, my jammers are still wet.”

“Fine,” Rin says, as he sits down on his bed and pulls on some socks. “You know what, keep them—you seem to have a shortage of underwear in general.”

“Does giving someone your underwear count as cheating?” Nitori wonders out loud.

“No,” Rin and Haru reply in unison.

Nitori shrugs. “Okay, just making it clear,” he says, and dives back under the covers.

They finish dressing up at the same time, though Rin takes an extra two minutes to fix his hair so that it doesn’t look like a tragic bedhead-induced wreck, a problem that Haru doesn’t seem to have, because he’s a beautiful bastard that way. Afterwards, he shoves a Samezuka cap on Haru’s head, and then grabs his duffel bag containing his dirty laundry. With 3 minutes to spare, they finally leave Rin’s room.

The current  guard on duty doesn’t even pay them attention as they brusquely walk past him, and they make it out the gates without much incident, Haru blending in easily with the Samezuka props Rin gave him. Once they’re a couple of blocks away from the academy, Haru gives Rin back his cap, and they proceed to walk together at a more casual pace.

“What else are you cooking for Makoto?” Haru finally deigns to ask, when they’ve walked a few good blocks away from the school.

“Aside from the steak? Curried pumpkin soup, Caesar Salad,” Rin says, ticking off each item with his fingers. “And mashed potatoes to go with the steak.”

Haru actually looks impressed. “Sounds fancy.”

Rin shakes his head. “Not really. In theory yeah, but in terms of actually cooking it, it’s fairly simple. Soup is mostly tossing ingredients to a pot and adding water and salad is salad- you have to be some Darwin fodder level of stupid to fuck up a salad. The steak is the easiest—you just have to season it with salt and pepper and just sear it for a set number of minutes per side, depending on your preference.”

Haru makes a non-committal hum. “Still, it sounds like a huge amount of effort.”

“Yeah, well…” Rin fixes his gaze on his shoes as they wait for their turn to cross the street. “Makoto is worth it.”

A couple of cars run past them before the crosswalk light finally turns green. Rin starts walking, and Haru falls into step beside him. “He is,” Haru agrees, staring straight ahead. Their duffel bags brush against each other as Haru inclines his head slightly towards Rin. “I’m really happy for you both.”

Rin feels the corner of his lips curve up to a full-blown smile. “Thanks, Haru,” he says, suddenly filled with a surge of fondness for his friend. He looks up at the sky, robin-egg blue with whorls of white, the sun a pale bright circle. It’s a beautiful day, and it’s only just beginning. “It’s so funny how life works sometimes, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, to think that Makoto and I are like this now because you rejected us both.”

Haru’s eyes widen, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer, and falls quiet. “I’m really sorry about that,” he says after a while, looking glum.

“Hey hey hey, what’s with the sad face,” Rin says, elbowing Haru lightly on the ribs . “It’s all in the past, Haru, it’s okay.”

Haru’s brows are still creased, obviously still saddened by the subject, which is just dumb because the last thing Rin wants is to make Haru feel guilty over something Rin has long since recovered from. “But you’re right, life does work in strange ways sometimes,” he says, slowly. "It’s not every day that people I’ve hurt, unintentionally or otherwise, could heal each other.”

“Okay, let’s make some things clear— I never resented you for rejecting me. Okay?” Rin clarifies.

“Never— really?”

“Yes never,” Rin insists. “Did it suck? Heck yeah, it did because rejection always sucks, but you’re talking to the guy who spent most of his formative teenage years learning to get up after losing. I got over it.”

“I’m glad,” Haru murmurs. He looks up at the sky, as if contemplating his next words, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Makoto took it harder than I thought he would, though.”

Rin’s joyful mood falters a little at this new information. “You know what we ended up doing that afternoon, right?”

“Yes.”

Rin frowns. “He seemed fine afterwards. In fact he was…” His voice trails off, as he realizes the implications of what he’s about to say . “… smiling.”

_Oh._

Rin looks down at his shoes, suddenly feeling small. Talk about hindsight being 20/20. 

He doesn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand, there’s this twinge of annoyance that Haru has to bring up something like that _now_ , right after he went through all the trouble to convince Rin of Makoto’s real intentions. On the other hand, this is the first time Haru has ever spoken about the subject. They never dwelled on it before because there was no need to. Rin got over it, Makoto got over it, Haru never gave it a second thought, and their lives just went on.  Rin still couldn’t see the need _now_ , but well, he has no right to complain, seeing as he’s the one who opened this can of worms so, might as well get it over with, if Haru wants to bring it up.

“I believe you,” Haru says.

“And I believed Makoto." Rin frowns, his chest suddenly feeling heavy. He kicks at a pebble lying on the ground, watching as it falls down the drain with a dissatisfying clang. “Well, back then. I never knew with that guy.  He’s so good at hiding his worries.”

“Not from me.” Haru purses his lips, eyes downcast. “He can lie to anyone but not to me.”

Rin tenses up, not liking where this is going a single bit. “Okay? I already know that Haru, I’m not going to take that away from you. What’s this all about anyway?”

There’s a far-away look in Haru’s eyes when he replies, like he’s drifting away from the present moment. “I’ve always been the person Makoto turns to when he’s hurt,” he says. “Until it was me who hurt him.”

 _Are we seriously going to talk about this now?_ Rin tips his head back and takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep his frustrations in check.

“It’s irrational but it was like I failed him,” Haru continues. “I knew what the problem was; thing was, that problem was me. And I can’t exactly fix myself like I could fix other things.”

“Don’t ever call yourself a problem,” Rin says, his voice coming off a little harsher than he intended. “It’s not your fault if people fall in love with you.”

Haru shrugs. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still hurt him. And I… “ He swallows, and looks down at the ground as if it holds the answers, fingers tightening around the strap of his overnight bag. “I didn’t know what to do. And then you started coming over more. And not just to race me, or coach Rei. You came for us, but you stayed for Makoto. And then, Makoto was okay again. But not because of me.”

“... Are you resenting me for that?” Rin asks. It was an honest question, and Rin would not begrudge Haru the right to feel something Rin had struggled so much with; something he had once felt towards Haru, on that fateful afternoon several years ago, during a time where he still believed that winning was all that mattered.

Haru shakes his head. “It’s not that. How can I resent anyone who makes Makoto happy?”

Rin has never really doubted Haru’s quiet, subtle affection for Makoto but for Haru to admit it so freely like it’s a universal truth sort of blows Rin’s mind. It’s amazing to see how Haru too, has changed in the many little ways like this one. “So what is it then?” he asks.

Haru takes his time, thinking of his response, and Rin stays quiet, not pushing, waiting for Haru to find his answers in his own time.

They walk couple of more blocks before Haru finally speaks again. “It’s more a feeling of getting thrown off-kilter.” His tone comes with a bit of a struggle, as if he’s still not sure of what he’s trying to say, but deciding to say it out loud anyway, as if hearing it from his own mouth would lend it credence. “As if I lost some sort of purpose. Like everyone else had moved on to something and I don’t know whether to go along with it or if I want to change at all,” he continues. He pauses, and chews on his bottom lip, as he mulls over his next words. “And then suddenly, you two just stopped talking, and I became the one Makoto turned to again. I thought that something would click, that I’d feel like things had gone back to normal, at least relative to me. But it didn’t feel normal. It felt wrong. And that’s when I realized it.”

“Realized what?”

“All this time, I’ve been thinking that since your relationship with Makoto has changed, I had to change with it or risk losing something,” Haru says, the words sounding like they were wrenched from his throat, leaving a ribbon of uncertainty in the moments that followed. He takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a long exhale, creating white translucent puffs in the air. Then he shifts, looking directly at Rin, opaque blue eyes so disarmingly earnest, it's impossible to look away. “But as it turns out, I didn’t have to. Because who I am to both of you shouldn’t have any bearing on who you are to each other. What matters is that you’re both happy… regardless of whether or not I’m a part of it.”

Rin sucks in a breath, and he actually stops in his tracks, his mind suddenly scrambling to wrap itself around Haru’s words and how much it must have taken for him to say them. “Haru…” he breathes out.

Haru doesn’t stop walking, the barest hint of a blush dappled on his cheeks, indistinguishable from the pink caused by the cold but Rin knows better. He reaches out and grabs Haru’s wrist. Haru stops, and turns just slightly, still not looking at Rin.

“You know, sometimes I ask myself what it is that Makoto and I saw in you,” Rin says slowly, walking just close enough to look Haru straight in the eye.

Then he grins, fever-bright and knife-sharp. “And now, you’ve reminded me.”

If anyone told Rin that he’d be having this kind of soul-searching conversation with Nanase Haruka not even 30 minutes after the two of them had been arguing like a couple of acid-tripped brats over the constitution of Rin’s posterior of all fucking things, he would have probably laughed and called that person something rude and unsavoury. But here he is now, standing in the middle of the sidewalk on a cool winter morning, slowly coming to terms with the fact that Haru, this beautiful, self-possessed, almost untouchable boy whose swimming takes people’s breath away, has exposed the parts of himself that made him just another teenager with confused messy feelings and insecurities like everyone else.

It barely registers to Rin when he steps closer to Haru and slings an arm around him, hand finding its familiar place on Haru’s shoulder. He really likes how embarrassed Haru looks and decides to crank up the teasing even more. “Never expected you to be such a sap though.”

Haru rolls his eyes, and just like that, he has switched back to his default mode of blithe unconcern.  “You’re one to talk, Mr. I-want-to-swim-in-a-pool-of-cherry-blossoms.”

“Hey I was a kid back then, and you know, kids say the darnedest  things,” Rin protests. “You, though. I mean, that was a major friendship epiphany back there, which is a huge improvement from your usual ‘Too much human, not enough water’ attitude towards everything.”

Haru scowls, and folds his arms, looking away. “Forget everything I said, I’m taking it back if you’re going to be this annoying about it."

“Nope, sorry that was a touch-move Haru— you just exposed your secret marshmallow core to me and I will never ever let you hear the end of it,” Rin sing-songs, leaning his whole weight on Haru’s side. He laughs when Haru tries to pry him off of him with an effort that is obviously half-hearted—Haru may look dainty but Rin knows just how powerful those arms can be, especially when cutting through water.

“You’re worse than Nagisa,” Haru grumbles when Rin finally loosens his hold enough for Haru to stagger away.

“Hey, no need for below-the-belt insults,” Rin says, pouting. “Nagisa is definitely a lot more clingier than me.”

“He’s also a lot lighter than you,” Haru shoots back, and before Rin can come up with an appropriate counter insult for Haru’s insinuations about his weight, Haru speaks up again, effectively changing the topic. “Anyway, what are you going to do for dessert?”

Rin grins. He really wants to tease Haru some more, but decides to back off this time— dessert is a legitimate concern, especially where Makoto is involved. “I haven’t really decided yet,” he admits. “I’m not really into sweet stuff and the only thing I know how to bake is cherry tarts because it’s Gou’s favourite. But I know Makoto loves chocolate so I might just cop out with Guylian pralines if I can’t think of something else.”

“How about a dark chocolate cake?” Haru suggests. “There’s a recipe I found in a magazine that you might want to try. It doesn’t look too sweet, so maybe you can enjoy it too.”

Rin is delighted at Haru’s offer. “Sure, do you have it now?”

“Yeah, I think so, hold on…”

Rin is pleasantly surprised when Haru actually grabs a notebook from his bag, flipping through it, before finding what he’s looking for and tears out a page, handing it to Rin. Rin catches a glimpse of green curry and kimchi recipes on the rest of the pages before Haru stuffs the notebook back in his bag, and looks at Rin expectantly.

Rin looks at the page Haru gave him. “Molten Dark chocolate Lava cake” is written in Haru’s neat scrawl, while pasted below it is a recipe cut out from a food magazine, and a picture of a sinfully dark cake, oozing with molten chocolate ganache. He never thought it was possible for a cake to look _seductive_ , but this picture is certainly proving him wrong. Makoto would probably be all over it like Haru on water.

He skims through the instructions, notes that while it’ll definitely take perfect timing to get it right, it shouldn’t pose too much trouble, as long as he’s careful. Decision made, he meets Haru’s eyes and nods. “I’ll take it, thanks Haru.”

Haru nods. “No problem.”

Rin clumsily folds the paper with his injured hand, wincing as the sudden movement elicits a dull ache from his knuckles, but he just grits his teeth, and carefully tucks it in his wallet.

Haru frowns. “Your hand is still giving you trouble?”

“Yeah, but I’ll deal with it,” Rin replies, determined to not let something as insignificant as his hand injury ruin his plans.

“Why don’t you leave your bag at home first and then just go shop afterwards so you won’t be carrying too much?” Haru suggests.  

Rin shakes his head. “The grocery’s already on the way; I don’t want to waste time going back.” He winces again, when the back of his hand accidentally brushes against a lamp post, and he scowls, reeling it back, resting it on top of his duffel bag to keep it from moving too much, while mentally berating himself. Stupid dumb injury. Stupid locker room that didn’t have any convenient trash cans he could’ve kicked instead of resorting to punching walls.

Haru eyes Rin’s fidgeting hands critically before finally asking. “Need help shopping?”

Rin blows out at his bangs, and throws Haru a sheepish look. “Yes please.”

*

Having Haru around to help him carry stuff was definitely a godsend, as a timely text from Gou reminded him that he had things other than Makoto’s dinner to worry about, adding more stuff to his already sizeable list. On the way back to his house, he decided to thank Haru  by treating him to brunch at the first place he could find that had mackerel in the menu, where Haru enjoyed mackerel miso and rice, while Rin wolfed down a bowl of spicy miso ramen.

Rin’s house is empty when he and Haru arrive, what with Gou making good on her word to stay over with a friend at Rin’s request, and their mom being away for an overseas conference.  Haru drops off the bags on the kitchen counter before turning to Rin, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry I can’t help,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I would, but I promised Makoto I’d babysit the twins later so I have to finish all my chores before then.”

Rin laughs, amused with how very Makoto-like that sounded. “How utterly domestic of you two,” he says. “Not that that’s any news.”

Haru rolls his eyes. “You’re about to get pretty domestic yourself, slaving over a hot stove for Makoto.”

“What-- no! This is different!” Rin sputters. “I’m preparing for a _date_ , in case that wasn’t clear the first time.”

"Doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be welcoming Makoto into your house with a home cooked meal,” Haru quips, smirking.

Rin really doesn’t have an answer to that so he just takes the high road and sticks his tongue out at Haru as he accompanies him towards the door so he can take his leave.

“Good luck, Rin,” Haru says as he walks out.

“Thanks Haru. Take care going home!”

Rin watches Haru until he turns the corner heading towards the train station before closing the door and returning to the kitchen. He checks  the bags still left  unpacked on the kitchen counter. He’s got 6 hours to prepare 4 courses, with only one functioning hand. It’s kind of daunting, but Rin’s always up for a challenge.

He’s just finished emptying the contents of his duffel bag in the laundry hamper at the back of the house, when he hears the doorbell ring again. Rin raises an eyebrow, surprised.  Did Haru leave anything?

Whoever it is, they’re being very persistent, and won’t stop buzzing. Rin scowls as he hurries over towards the front door, a few choice words about common courtesy already forming in his mind, ready for verbal launch as soon as he finds out who it is.

He swings the door open, only to be almost knocked down by a pink and blond whirlwind of manic energy.

“Nagisa,” he manages to choke out around the arms around his neck. “What are you—“

“—Haru-chan texted me,” Nagisa interrupts happily, as he releases Rin from his choke hold and drops to the floor.  “He said you’re _hand_ icapped, so you might not be able to do your best. We don’t want Mako-chan to eat subpar cooking so we’re here to help.”

Rin deliberately ignores that terrible pun and the consequent insult to his cooking skills. “We?”

“Hello Rin-san,” Rei greets cordially, stepping up from behind Nagisa. Rin didn’t see him before – possibly because he was blinded by the neon atrocity Nagisa decided to clothe himself with this morning, but he’s only too grateful that Nagisa came with his own self-appointed damage control.

Rin feels the corner of his lips tug up into a smile. “You guys came all the way here to help me cook?”

“Among other things,” Rei replies, and lifts up a shopping bag. “Do you have a nice vase?”

Rin’s eyes grow wide as he spots actual roses inside. “Holy shit, where did you get flowers, it’s the middle of winter.”

“They’re hothouse flowers Rin-chan. And we got them for you because you need to make it up for ignoring Mako-chan and causing so much misery in our swim club.”

“Hey, as I recall, my issue was with Makoto and not all of you.”

“And an issue with Makoto-senpai is all that is needed,” Rei says. “He is our captain, after all.”

“A sad Mako-chan means a surly and irritable Haru-chan,” Nagisa supplements, making a face. “Seriously, he nearly bit my head off when I made this harmless comment about how Mako-chan looked a little bit off-colour one morning.”

“To be fair, your exact comment was “You look like you’ve been wrestling with cows the whole night and lost badly” so I don’t blame Haruka-senpai for snapping at you,” Rei clarifies.

“Yeah but the point is, Haru-chan got mad, so I got sad, which made Rei-chan sad, and when all four of us are down in the dumps, Gou-chan feels bad,” Nagisa says in an imperious tone, and points a finger at Rin. “So. It’s all your fault.”

Rin feels simultaneously touched and ashamed of himself. He’d have to be blind on top of being stupid not to realize how much he can affect the Iwatobi team—his getting kicked off the relay team in the regionals had upset Haru enough to make Rei give up his spot so that Rin can swim with the old crew again, consequences be damned. But that involved swimming and winning, neither of which was present with his issue with Makoto. This is telling of something much bigger, something that goes beyond victories and a common goal; this is about how Rin, despite being separated by distance, by schools, by time differences, has always been a part of the team, _their_ team, and how he feels can affect everyone in it.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” Rin says, hoping his sincerity is evident in his tone. “I promise, I will make up for it.”

“Good to hear it,” Rei says with a warm smile. “Shall we get started then?”

Rin grins back, and opens the door wider. “Yeah, sure come in.” He leads them to the kitchen, pointing out the ingredients and the utensils, then excuses himself to go upstairs to change into something he wouldn’t mind getting dirty in.

When he comes back to the kitchen, Rei and Nagisa have already donned the orange and white aprons hanging on the rack by the sink, leaving out Gou’s frilly pink apron for Rin’s use. And while he normally would start complaining about getting first dibs in apron wear in _his own house_ , he decides  to let it slide. Rei and Nagisa did go all the way here to lend him their help after all.

And so, Rin manfully puts on the pink apron, ignoring Nagisa’s giggling when he spots the glittery violet lettering of *~Kitchen Princess~* on the front pocket.

“Alright, let’s get started,” he announces, tying up his apron behind him. “We’re doing a western menu: steak, salad, soup and a cake.”

He fishes out the chocolate cake recipe from his wallet, then jots a note into it, before handing it to Rei. “I’ve never tried baking anything except Gou’s cherry pastries before, so I’ll be needing your help with this.”

Rei adjusts his glasses as he reads the paper. “Molten dark chocolate cake,” he says, nodding in approval. “Classic.”

“Ooh, I want to help with that!” Nagisa exclaims, bounding over, only to be blocked by Rin’s outstretched hand.

“No, you’re going to end up eating half of it,” Rin vetoes sternly. He picks up the bag containing the lettuce and other vegetables and places it in front of Nagisa. “You’re in charge of salad.”

Nagisa gives him a look like Rin just stomped on his wildest fantasies and repeatedly ground a heel on them “You’re making me in charge of the _salad_?” he cries,  like salad is an abominable word that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Why?”

“Because it’s the easiest,” Rin says. “So even you can’t mess it up.”

“So mean, Rin-chan!” Nagisa complains, pouting. “I’m not that bad in the kitchen. Can’t I do the steak instead?”

“No, because I’m only cooking the steak when Makoto arrives. I’m just going to season it with salt and pepper for now.”

“Soup then,” Nagisa insists, not budging. “Anything but rabbit food, come on.”

Rin has no idea what vendetta Nagisa has against salad, but far be it for him to complain when it frees him of the task of dealing with something more difficult. “Fine, you can do the soup,” he relents, before handing Nagisa the ingredients. “But don’t come crying to me if you can’t handle it.”

“It’s soup, Rin-chan,” Nagisa scoffs. “How hard can it be?”

 

*

“Rin-chan you are a creature of unspeakable evil, and a harbinger of suffering,” Nagisa whines, as he wipes off sweat from his brow. “Why do I need to do this manually again?”

“You wanted to help, and you didn’t want to do the salad,” Rin answers blithely, hiding his smirk as he grinds some pink peppercorns for his steak sauce.

“There’s a perfectly functioning food processor in your cupboard,” Nagisa retorts. “I know it, I checked.”

“Yeah, but I want a more grainy texture for my pumpkin soup,” Rin answers. “So mash.”

Nagisa grumbles something along the lines of “I literally feel like a _tool_ ,” and resumes mashing the pumpkin into a fine paste. The kitchen is quiet once more, the sound of mixers whirring and the clatter of knives against wood serving as their background music, as the three of them work on their respective tasks.

Two minutes later however, Rin accidentally splashes red wine all over his shirt and apron when the silence is suddenly shattered by Nagisa’s anguished cry.

"AAAAHHHHH!”

Rin nearly knocks down the sauce he’s been working so hard over for the past 30 minutes as he whirls around. “What happened?” he shouts, as he looks around wildly for any damage that may have possibly befallen on his kitchen. _Did Nagisa accidentally cut himself with a spoon, did a spider land on Rei’s hair, is something on fire, why can’t I smell any smoke_.

Nagisa is pointing a trembling, thankfully blood-free finger towards Rei, who is wearing an expression like he got caught in public with his pants down.

“Rei-chan _what_ are you _doing_?

Rei looks at the item in his hand and back at Nagisa’s shocked face. “Er, there’s an additional note for chili powder—“

“On a chocolate lava cake?” Nagisa screeches, eyes wild. “That’s _heresy_.”

Oh for _fuck’s_ sake. Rin drops his hand, which he didn’t notice had been clutching at his chest, as he actually feels his heartbeat slowing down from triple mach speed levels earlier.

Rei looks helplessly at Rin, who sighs, and puts aside the sauce he’s been working on to a safer location, feeling a headache coming on. “Nagisa, I’m the one who added that ingredient,” he says wearily. “Leave Rei alone.’”

“And let you ruin a perfectly good cake? Rin-chan I thought you wanted to make everything perfect.”

“I know what I’m doing; also you’re not the one going to eat the cake, what the hell do you care what goes in it?”

“No, I can’t let you do that!” Nagisa shouts. With reflexes Rin didn’t even know Nagisa was capable of, he dashes to Rei’s side of the kitchen and gets a firm grip on the mixing bowl, before brandishing a spoon filled with goopy pumpkin paste in Rin’s direction.  “ I’m going to defend the sanctity of this innocent cake from your evil spicy taint.”

Rei looks torn between wanting to disarm his boyfriend or disown him.

“Nagisa, put the spoon down,” Rin says wearily.

“Tell Rei-chan to take the chili powder away,” Nagisa responds coolly. “And nobody gets hurt.”

Wow, this certainly escalated quickly. Rin makes a frustrated noise, and throws Rei a look that he hopes manages to convey _DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!!!_ despite the lack of somatic components.

Rei throws back a look which reads to Rin as:  ‘ _What do you want me to do?’_

_I don’t know, distract him, take off your clothes or something._

Unfortunately, Rei and Rin are no Makoto and Haru when it comes to this thing, and so Rin’s last attempt at mental communication fails, when Rei just looks even more confused. Nagisa is still holding on to the bowl like his life depends on it, never taking his eyes off Rin.

The stand-off continues for another ten seconds, before Rin, fed-up with this horseshit, takes one step forward.

Instantly, a spoonful of pumpkin paste hits him square on the chest, and he watches in mild disgust, as it slides down the pink linen of the apron like a gross mutant amoeba.

“I warned you,” Nagisa says, already arming his spoon with a new batch.

Feeling his rage meter filling up to dangerous levels, Rin counts backwards in English in a paltry attempt to calm himself down and stop himself from taking on Nagisa and possibly destroy his kitchen in the process. _Ten... Nine... Eight..._

His intentions seem to be stamped all over his face, because Rei is looking at Rin warily, biting his lip as if in indecision.  Then, just as Nagisa is about to launch another attack at Rin, Rei makes a noise that suspiciously sounds like “fuck it,” grabs Nagisa by the shoulders and...

...kisses him.

Rin's eyebrows shoot up to orbit at this. Ooookkkkaay. He was definitely not expecting _that,_ but hey, whatever works.

The moment Nagisa lets go of the bowl in favour of gripping Rei’s sweater , Rin runs over, grabs it and brings it over to his side of the kitchen. Nagisa doesn’t even seem to notice, too engrossed in Rei’s extremely effective methods of distraction.

 _Rei, you are truly a man’s man_ , Rin thinks gratefully, as he physically shields the bowl with his body, and quickly tosses some chili into it, while Nagisa is still sufficiently distracted.

Nagisa continues to be distracted for the next 30 seconds, which is to be expected of people with their lung capacity. Then it goes into a full minute, which is pretty impressive.

It becomes decidedly less impressive when they don’t stop, Nagisa clutching at Rei’s apron like a lifeline, kissing like they’re doing their best to fuse themselves into a single entity.

“Rei, you can stop now,” Rin calls out, but for all the attention Rei paid him, Rin might as well be another kitchen appliance.

"Seriously, it’s been more than a minute what the fuck you guys.”

Nothing. Rei and Nagisa are making out in front of him and making Rin feel like an outsider in _his own fucking kitchen_. Unreal.

When Rei actually lifts Nagisa onto the counter, nearly knocking aside half the ingredients of Rin’s precious dinner, Rin has to draw the line. So he takes a couple of pans, walks until he’s a foot away from the two of them, and bangs said pans together.

The resulting cacophony results to Rei jumping almost a foot in the air to break away. Nagisa, however, remains unmoved, just sitting there looking love-struck and totally not shocked at all, much to Rin’s disappointment.

“Welcome back to another episode of My Kitchen Rules; the first of which is _don't be gross on the table where I prepare my food,”_ Rin snaps.

“Oh, were we?” Nagisa says breathily, cheeks flushed.

“I love how this surprises you,” Rin says dryly.

Rei at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “I apologize for getting carried away, Rin-san,” he says, fixing the rumples in his apron, and adjusting his glasses before turning to whisper something in Nagisa’s ear.

“Oh okay,” Nagisa says, giggling. “Yes of course Rei-chan, I’ll get to that right away!”  He then unceremoniously drops his spoon on the counter, removes his apron,  and practically floats out the room. Rei just nonchalantly fetches the bowl of pumpkin paste Nagisa left behind, and takes over.

Rin watches this all with morbid fascination, before rounding on Rei. “I don’t know what you told him, but I already respect you so hard for it.”

Rei does not even look up at Rin, his gaze focused solely on the orange goo he’s mashing with much fervour.  “I only told him that I’ve got the rest of the cooking duties handled.”

“Oh come on, that’s not all,” Rin cajoles. “You can tell me. Unless it’s something gross like, “I promise to wear the pantyhose tonight” in which case, yeah, I don’t want to know.”

Whatever progress Rei’s face has made in achieving a normal colour just set itself back. “I may have also told him that he can be far more productive outside the kitchen,” he mutters.

Rin pauses, alarm bells stirring in his mind. “What do you mean by _productive?_ ”

Rei is _still_ not looking at Rin. “I merely appealed to his sense of fair play.”

“Are you shitting me? Nagisa’s about as far removed from the concept of fair play as Haru is from the concept of walking away from the pool.”

“Not when it comes to making sure you’re not the only one giving a good impression on your long-awaited date,” Rei says, finally glancing up just long enough to look at Rin.

Rin takes a moment to digest these words before coming to a startling, horrible conclusion. “So you told Nagisa to _coach_ Makoto on how to impress me?”

“I had to give him something else to do while we—“

Rin doesn’t hear the rest because he drops his measuring spoons and hightails it out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Nagisa is sitting cross-legged on the couch, earphones plugged in, eyes closed, almost as if he’s _meditating,_ which is pretty much the cherry on top of this surrealism sundae Rin’s Saturday afternoon is shaping out to be.

“What are you doing?”

“Relaxing.”

“You assaulted me with pumpkin paste and took my cake batter hostage, and now you’re _relaxing_?”

“Wow, are you blind, or did you not see what kind of action I had going there before you cockblocked me.”

“You were about to get inappropriate with my kitchen table.”

“Exactly, which is why I need to calm myself down in the best way I can,” Nagisa replies as if that explained anything. His eyes are still closed, though he seems to know exactly where RIn is glaring at him from. “That is, unless you’re fine with me borrowing your bathroom for reasons you might not want to look too deeply into.”

Rin wants to give up on life. “Okay I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but at this point I don’t care what you do in my bathroom, as long as you stop doing whatever it is you’re doing now.”

Nagisa cracks one eye open. “I’m not doing anything Rin-chan.”

Rin grips the top of the couch and looms over Nagisa, glowering. “You’re planning some _thing_ , some sort of revenge because I put chili powder in Makoto’s cake.”

Nagisa gives him a surprised wide-eyed look that could easily fool anyone who isn’t Rin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I’m not going to be the one eating it, so why get worked up over it?”

Rin stares at him. “Uh, did you just forget about the part where you _flung pumpkin paste at me_?”

“Oh, that,” Nagisa says dismissively. “Well sorry, I’m just very passionate about the just treatment of desserts.”

Rin reminds himself that Nagisa is a guest in his house and it would be terrible manners to attempt to strangle him with those earphones; besides which, Rei would be really upset, and Rin respects Rei a lot. “Look, I’ll let it slide, just do something else that doesn’t involve Makoto.”

“Like what?”

Rin throws his hands up. “I don’t know, don’t you have some dark kinky tentacle god to worship or something?”

“You’re one to talk; I’m not the one who looks like a bloody sacrifice for a demon summoning ritual,” Nagisa fires back, eyeing Rin’s red wine spattered ensemble condescendingly.

“And whose fault is that?” Rin retorts. “Look, I don’t care what game you and Rei have going on, but leave Makoto out of this.”

Nagisa makes a big show of sighing dramatically and feigning hurt. “Rin-chan, why do you have so little faith in me? I’ve only wanted nothing but your happiness with Mako-chan from the very beginning. Come on, would you be here right now if I didn’t lock you up in that physics lab all those months ago.?”

Ah the trump card. Nagisa must be running out of bullshit to fool Rin with—he never brings this up unless there’s nothing else to fall back on. “That’s beside the point—you know it, and I know it. I also know you’re planning something and—“

“—Hey Mako-chan!” Nagisa interrupts loudly. “I heard you and Rin-chan made up. Congratulations!”

Rin freezes, as he realizes, to his utmost horror, that those earphones Nagisa’s wearing is actually a _headset_ connected to a phone.

Nagisa’s grinning triumphantly at him.

Rin narrows his eyes, and lifts his chin up, refusing to give in until the very last minute. “You’re bluffing.”

Nagisa promptly unplugs his headset from the phone, presses speaker, and immediately, a voice that is unmistakeably Makoto’s emanates from it.

_“… Eh, but who told you?”_

Nagisa smiles sweetly at Rin as he plugs his headset back into the phone. “Haru-chan did of course! He also said Rin-chan’s treating you to a four-course meal. So _romantic_ ,” he says, sounding wholly impressed. He hops off the couch, keeping eye contact with Rin, even as he teasingly wraps a finger around the mic of his headset and brings it to his lips. “I hope you show him how much you’ll _appreciate_ it.”

Rin fumes silently, debating on whether or not to follow Nagisa out of the house, or accept the inevitable and reconcile himself with the fact that he’s going to let Nagisa put Makoto under his evil sway.

In the end, the pressure to deliver his promised kick-ass dinner triumphs over exacting vengeance for his slighted pride, and so, with a frustrated sigh, he drags himself back into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry too much, Rin-san,” Rei tells him as soon as Rin comes back, the ingredients for his curried pumpkin soup already laid out in a perfect line. “Contrary to your delusions about Nagisa’s malicious motives, he actually means well.”

“I know he means well, but even you can’t deny that his methods are nowhere near harmless,” Rin mutters as he goes back to his counter.

Rei just smiles fondly. “And you can’t deny that his unorthodox methods are effective nonetheless.”

Rin scowls, but doesn’t argue because Rei is right. Nagisa is deceptively astute when it comes to people, and behind that manic cheer and boundary-pushing physical affection is a shrewd mind and a generous heart. Besides, Rei is so disgustingly in love with Nagisa, anything Rin could say against him would be immediately countered and backed with evidence, and Rei is a total monster when it comes to debate. Nagisa already punked him good earlier, and he’s not really in the mood to lose for the second time in a row.

Focusing back on his current task, he takes a look at the bowl of cake mix he recently rescued from Nagisa’s clutches. The gooey mix of dark chocolate is dotted with red flecks of chili powder, and just a tiny bit of orange pumpkin paste. He hastily fishes out that last bit with a popsicle stick, and surveys what else needs to be done.

Rei seems to have a good handle on the soup, the ingredients for the gravy are all prepared, and the only thing left to do with the salad is toss it with the Caesar dressing. The cake-hostage situation notwithstanding, they’re actually doing great and right on schedule.

Squaring his shoulders, he goes over to the kitchen cabinets to fetch the baking pans and tins.

Makoto is worth it, _Makoto is worth it, Makoto. Is. Worth. It._ he repeatedly tells himself, as he furiously dusts and butters the muffin tins according to the instructions.

_And he’d better appreciate this fucking cake._

*

Six PM rolls around, and Rei and Nagisa have all but rushed out of Rin’s house, presumably to find a new location with which to resume the activities they started in Rin’s kitchen, which is now back to being spotless. All the dirty dishes are cleared, washed and back on the drying rack, counter wiped clean. The salad had been tossed, the curried pumpkin soup ready for serving in its pot, and the spicy chocolate lava cake he fought so hard to create now sits prettily on a deep red platter, looking every bit the chemical equation of seduction via endorphins.

Nagisa, for all that he was generally a pest in the actual cooking preparations, made up for it by setting the table, placing the hothouse flowers Rei brought earlier in a nice glass vase. He also used a checkered table cloth and rattan placemats, arranged the silverware in the correct order, and even brought out the special tableware, though he nearly gave Rin a heart attack when he almost dropped one of Rin’s mother’s prized Corelle plates on the floor.

All that’s left to clean is Rin himself, whose current ensemble, as Nagisa so tactfully told him, looks like something straight out of murder scene. He still has 30 minutes before Makoto is expected to show, so he should have enough time to take a nice shower and sear the steak.

As he passes by the living room, something out-of-place catches his eye and he backtracks. Further investigation tells him that Nagisa left his blindingly pink scarf hanging over the arm of their leather couch. Frowning, he picks up his phone and informs Nagisa about it, who texts back immediately:

 

> **H. NAGISA** : OH NO, THAT’S MY SISTER’S DON’T SHOWER YET RIN-CHAN I’M DOUBLING BACK NOW.

Not even five minutes later, the doorbell rings. Wow, Nagisa must really like this scarf. “I’m coming!” Rin calls out, grumbling as he grabs the scarf, and runs towards the front door, practically throwing it open.

“Next time don’t leave your—“ He shuts up abruptly when he finds himself looking up.

“Hi,” Makoto says, smiling brightly.

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could obviously see the parts where I got lazy hahaha. Also, please check out the super cute [fanart](http://hibikoswonderland.tumblr.com/post/90167228670/makoto-is-worth-it-makoto-is-worth-it-makoto) [hibikoswonderland](http://hibikoswonderland.tumblr.com/) of tumblr drew of pink!Apron Rin.
> 
> The next chapter is technically the last (chapter 10 will be more of an epilogue). And due to the fact that the people on my tweetlist are all fucking enablers (and to make up for this update lacking MakoRin interaction), I’m breaking my promise of keeping this fic chaste, and bumping up the rating to M. How I deluded myself into thinking I can keep a fic about fuckbuddies rated T, I have no idea, but I held on for 8 chapters, so... I tried okay. I hope there are no objections!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Makoto and Rin finally get to that overdue date, and the story comes to its conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter includes some references to [Your Constellations Across My Skin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1170162), the SIDE B story to This Gentle Heart written by [unsospiro](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unsospiro/pseuds/unsospiro) which I highly recommend, if you want to see Makoto’s side of things. 
> 
> This the last real chapter (and the full MakoRin payload) so I hope you enjoy!

Rin blinks up at his unexpectedly early guest, his hand frozen on the doorknob. Makoto’s smile takes an uncertain turn, which is the only indication Rin needs to realize that he’s openly _ogling_ him now, but how could he not? Makoto’s wearing a suit. A fucking _suit_. And not some tacky ready-to-wear one either—it’s Italian-cut, emphasizing his broad shoulders and tapered waist. It doesn’t look overly expensive, but it is clearly tailored for Makoto’s build—the dark material moves with Makoto, clean flowing lines enhancing his long limbs. His white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, providing a peek of sharp collarbones and the silver chain pendant resting above them. He’s wearing a simple forest green tie and no cufflinks. He finishes the look with a matte-finish leather belt, which has a fancy studded buckle, the likes of which Rin badly wants to appropriate for himself for any such future sartorial endeavours of the show-off variant. And as if the entire ensemble isn’t scorchingly hot enough, Makoto is also wearing _glasses._

Overkill. It pretty much takes every ounce of Rin’s willpower not to drag Makoto into the foyer and have his wicked way with him on the floor.

Makoto is staring back, and that’s when Rin remembers he hasn’t said anything yet. He also remembers that he’s still in sweats and a frilly pink apron that looks like it’s splattered with sacrificial blood, so before Makoto can say anything, Rin beats him to the punch:

“… The hell are you _wearing_?”

Makoto looks down as if noticing his ensemble for the first time, and then chuckles nervously. “Well uh, you said we’re going to have a four course meal with steak, so I um, thought we were going to a fancy restaurant...”

“And pay four times the price? Fuck that,” Rin says, rolling his eyes. “Like I told Haru, I picked up more than just swimming skills in Australia you know.” Makoto looks surprised, and Rin narrows his eyes at him. “You’d better not be disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed!” Makoto replies hastily. “This… This is actually so much better.” He then smiles one of those soft awed smiles, causing Rin’s acerbic retort to just melt away, the blood that previously rushed to his dick now making an intrepid up trek battle to his cheeks, and so he does the logical thing and turns around.

“Well don’t just stand there. Come in,” he says gruffly, and begins walking back into the house. He hears the door closing behind him, followed by a rustling of clothes.  “And don’t bother taking off your shoes, the effect is ruined without it.”

“Okay…” Makoto says hesitantly. “So I’m guessing I shouldn’t take off my coat too?“

“No,” Rin answers immediately. Makoto made the effort to wear the suit, and Rin’s going to milk it for what it’s worth. He’s about to ask why the heck Makoto is 30 minutes early when he receives another text message from Nagisa:

> **H. NAGISA:** I’m sure Mako-chan still finds you cute, even in a bloody pink apron. I’ll get the scarf some other time. Enjoy your dinner! XOXO
> 
>  

Luckily for Nagisa, Rin’s still in too much awe of Makoto's ensemble to bother dignifying his treachery with a response, and simply shuts off his phone. “Since when did you own a suit?” he asks, when Makoto follows him towards the living room.

“Well it’s nearing the end of my second year in high school, so my dad thought it was best to have something ready. My mom is friends with the local tailor so we got a really good price for it,” Makoto explains.  He hesitates a bit, before looking at Rin, smiling shyly. “Do you like it?”

 _Like it? If you are any hotter, you’d set my house on fire_. “Don’t slouch,” Rin mutters, and picks up the remote control, before tossing it in Makoto’s direction. “I’m just going to take a shower, so make yourself feel at home.”

He steers Makoto towards the direction of the couch before turning to leave. Before he has even taken two steps, he feels a tug on his arm, and he turns to see Makoto’s eyes wide, patented brow-crease of worry stamped all over his face.

“Rin…” he whispers. “What happened to your hand?”

Rin winces as he realizes what this would look like to Makoto without context. Coupled with the bloody apron, he guesses he’s not really painting a pretty picture right now. He racks his brain thinking about an innocuous excuse that won’t agitate Makoto further, before giving up and simply deciding on the truth. “Oh, well I kind of punched the wall yesterday while arguing with Haru.”

“You punched the _wall!?”_ Makoto cries out, looking absolutely horrified.

“To be fair, it was just drywall, not cement so…” The rest of Rin’s words die in his throat when Makoto lifts Rin’s hand and very softly brushes his lips against the bandages.

“Does it still hurt?” Makoto asks sadly, thumb caressing along the inside of Rin’s wrist before settling on the pulse point.

Rin swallows. “Not too much. I mean, Haru did a good job patching me up.”

Makoto’s eyes shine with relief. “Yeah, he’s good with that.” He squeezes Rin’s wrist a little before finally releasing it. “Please don’t hurt yourself like that again.”

“It’s not like I make it a habit or anything,” Rin mumbles, retracting his hand, which suddenly feels much too hot all of a sudden. Many parts of him feel too hot actually. Yeah, he definitely needs that calming, cold shower now. He clears his throat, and steps back. “Anyway, I’m just going to take a quick shower. Be right back.”

He doesn’t wait for Makoto to reply and heads up the stairs, taking two at a time, feeling Makoto’s eyes watching him, and practically runs into the bathroom.

After he’s done with his quick, nigh-on freezing shower, he checks the contents of his closet for the suit he was required to wear for his Year Ten Formal in Australia last year.  He wasn’t really planning to wear anything fancy, but Makoto brought his A-game to the table tonight, and Rin would be damned if he couldn’t match it. 

Unfortunately, when he tries it on, the suit jacket is already too small for him— Samezuka training plus his growth spurt has filled him out quite a bit. At least the pants still fit, though they’re a bit tight around the hips. Nothing unmanageable though. 

With a sigh, he looks for another suitable replacement for his top, and after a few minutes of practically throwing out half his closet, comes across a black button down polo. He inspects it for any damages, dusts it off a bit and then puts it on.

Fully buttoned up, Rin feels a bit tight around the chest area, so he undoes the first three buttons, creating a deep V that shows off a bit of his pectorals. There’s still a hint of a strain around his shoulders but any deeper would make him look like a total douche so he keeps it that way. It’s not like Makoto would judge him for it anyway.

He sweeps his hair into a ponytail, puts on a belt, sock and shoes, and then checks the overall effect in the mirror. He looks softer, more relaxed, despite his attire not fitting him as perfectly as he’d like it to be. A few months ago, before he rediscovered his friends again, he distinctly remembers looking into this very mirror, and seeing someone completely different—someone harsher, more arrogant, sharp teeth bared to hide the impenetrable loneliness beneath. In Australia, everyone was bigger, stronger, faster and Rin had forced himself to learn the art of self-armouring early on, because it was that or give up and kill his father’s dream before it even had the chance to take off.

He carried that art with him to Japan, and it took a great sacrifice from his friends for him to learn that he no longer needed it.

_At least not now. And especially not with Makoto._

He reached out, touched his reflection, at the unruly lock of hair that he can’t tuck into the rest of his ponytail, looking for a trace of that invisible exoskeleton. He doesn’t find it.

Taking a deep breath, he pulls back his hand, takes a step back and turns around, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

It’s time.

He steps back into the living room just in time to catch Makoto getting starry-eyed over a Whiskas commercial. Biting back a laugh, he clears his throat instead, and Makoto immediately takes his eyes off the frolicking kitties on the screen.  Rin tries not think about what it says about himself that he’s feeling oddly victorious over getting Makoto’s attention away from kittens. He also tries hard not to look too giddy when Makoto’s eyes grow wide, matching the big dumb smile on his face, obviously checking Rin out.

Rin approaches Makoto slowly until he’s standing in front of him. “So,” he drawls, holding out a hand to pull Makoto from the couch. “See something you like?”

Makoto’s eyes twinkle, as he lets himself be pulled up. He doesn’t let go of Rin’s hand. “Yeah. I hope it’s part of the menu.”

Wow, Makoto’s starting _strong._ Rin’s a little impressed. “Maybe after dessert, which you shouldn’t miss,” he answers cheekily, lacing their fingers together.

Makoto laughs, as Rin leads him towards the dining area. “Why, what kind of dessert do you have planned for me?”

“A dark and hot one. Positively _sinful_ too. The consumption of which is scientifically proven to release chemicals that elicit feelings of happiness,” Rin quips.

“Sounds like something I’ll enjoy,” Makoto says.

“Oh you don’t even _know_ ,” Rin replies, smirking.

They enter the room, and Rin allows Makoto a few seconds to gawk at his set-up. Well, technically it’s Rei’s and Nagisa’s work, but Rin’s the one reaping the benefits here and he’s sure the other two are too busy sucking face right now to mind him taking credit for it.

He lets go of Makoto’s hand to walk over towards the table, and pulls up one of the chairs. Makoto sits at his silent invitation, and he heads over to the kitchen counter where the seasoned steaks were still laid out on the large plate.

“How do you like your steak?” he asks, as he turns on the stove to high heat and drizzles a bit of olive oil on it.

“Hmmm…” Makoto taps his chin, thinking for a bit. “Medium rare, please.”

“Good,” Rin says approvingly. He places the two rib-eye steaks into the searing pan, and sets the kitchen timer to two minutes. “I would probably have to slap you with the steak if you answered well done.”

“I would never do that, Rin,” Makoto says, as if the very idea scandalizes him. “I may not be as much of a carnivore as you and Nagisa, but I do know how to appreciate quality meat when I see it.”

Rin grins to himself. “Oh don’t I _know_ it,” he says, sharing a knowing look with Makoto, before turning towards the soup pot, and ladling two servings.

“First course: Curried pumpkin soup,” he announces, setting the two bowls on the table, and taking a seat for himself.

Makoto looks delighted. “Smells good,” he says, already spreading his table napkin on his lap. He takes a spoonful of soup, blows a bit across the surface to cool it, and then gingerly inserts in his mouth. His whole face brightens up almost instantly. “Oh wow. I think I just found my new favourite curried food.”

The urge to stand up on his seat and pump his fist in the air is extremely tempting, but Rin settles for leaning back casually against his chair, with a flippant grin. “Told you you’d be in for a real treat.”

“The fact that _you_ made it already makes it a real treat,” Makoto says with such obvious sincerity, Rin feels his ears turn the colour of his hair.

The kitchen timer pings, giving Rin an excuse to get up and hide his red face, and he walks over to the stove to flip the two steaks on the other side. Then, he fetches the salad from the refrigerator, placing them on the kitchen counter for easy serving, before finally turning back to Makoto with what he hopes is a confident grin.

“And those are just the appetizers,” he says, as he goes back to his seat. “There’s a lot more to come.”

Makoto smiles gratefully, still holding Rin’s gaze. “I’ll savour each and every one of them.”

Rin ducks his head behind the vase of flowers, and grins.

 

*

 

The appetizers are polished off quickly- Rin’s glad to see that Makoto’s as hungry as he is, digging into the food with much gusto.  Rin learns quickly that Makoto is quite an expressive eater, taking delight in the littlest things, making his appreciation apparent with every lick of his lips.

They’re on the main course now, the promised Australian Angus Ribeye now gracing both their plates, where it’s arranged with a hefty serving of mashed potatoes and a boat of red wine and peppercorn gravy. 

He watches Makoto slice into the steak, the serrated edge of the knife cutting neatly through the tender meat, and is pleased with how the meat’s juices burst out. Makoto spears it with his fork, dips it into the gravy before popping it into his mouth.

“Well?” Rin asks.

Makoto eyes crinkle around the corners, his shoulders lifting up slightly, as if he’s having difficulty containing his enjoyment. “It’s wonderful,” he says, beaming. “Thank you so much Rin.”

“You’re welcome,” Rin replies, and finally takes a bite from his own food. He looks down at his plate and chews, savouring his own cooking. Man, this is some _serious_ steak. 

Makoto is still looking at Rin like he’s the most brilliant person in the universe and Rin can’t help feeling insanely proud of himself. “I still can’t believe you made all of this for me.”

“It wasn’t just me. Rei helped for the most part, and Nagisa _kind of_ helped with the soup,” Rin admits. He slices another piece of steak and dips it into the gravy. “The rest I owe to Junior Masterchef Australia, and those 8 year olds who can bake perfect soufflés and have shamed me into learning to work a skillet.”

“Well, I’m so lucky to have friends who can cook,” Makoto says happily. “Haru, Rei… and now you.”

“I’m surprised to know you suck in the kitchen actually,” Rin says. “I mean, your cupcakes were pretty good.”

“Actually that was more the twins than me, I just bought and measured the ingredients. Besides, baking is different from cooking, it’s an exact science. And well, the twins are handy in the kitchen, more than I am.” Makoto enthusiastically slices his steak into bite sized pieces, before taking the gravy boat and drizzling the rich flavourful substance all over the meat. “Haru taught me to cook one time and I nearly chopped off my fingers. I guess I’m just no good with kitchen stuff…” He takes another bite of steak, trailing off.

“That’s okay, I’m good enough for the both of us,” Rin says, without thinking.

Makoto pauses, the steak halfway to his mouth, and grins. “Does this mean this won’t be the last time you’ll cook for me?”

Rin looks back down on his plate. “If you’re good,” he mutters, before shoving another forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“When am I not?” Makoto teases, and finally bites into his steak. “Mmm, this is so juicy…”

Rin kicks him lightly under the table. “Like now. Stop making thinly veiled allusions to sex, that’s not a polite dinner topic.”

Makoto nearly chokes on his food, and Rin feels a little guilty. “What—“ he gasps, out in between coughs. “I really meant the steak Rin!”

“Did you, now?”

Makoto wipes his mouth with a napkin. “What else do you think I meant?”

Rin narrows his eyes, and points at Makoto with his fork. “You spoke with Nagisa,” he says instead, knowing it answers nothing, but he’s 99% sure it’s relevant to the current subject being discussed anyway.

Makoto raises an eyebrow. “Yes? What does he have to with anything?”

“He must have told you _something_ , that’s why you’re throwing me these cheesy lines.”

“Cheesy lines?” Makoto actually looks offended. “Rin, I meant every single word I said to you today.”

Rin wishes his facial blood vessels would stop conspiring against him just once this evening. “Yeah well, they were pretty suggestive, whether you meant it that way or not.”

At this, Makoto grins, and Rin confirms his worst suspicions. “I had no idea it’s affecting you that much.”

Rin throws a balled up paper napkin at him, and hides his face behind the vase of flowers for the nth time. At this point, he’s resigned to the possibility that every other thing that comes out of Makoto’s mouth would make him blush like a schoolgirl so he might as well stop fighting it.

When Rin finally brings out the cake, Makoto looks like Christmas morning, and Rin valiantly tries not to be smug about it.

Makoto takes his time, cutting through the middle, allowing the chocolate center to ooze out. Rin watches as Makoto takes an adequate bite-sized serving onto his fork, lifts it to his mouth, pausing for a second before it slips past his lips, which are still shiny from the steak.

Rin waits nervously as Makoto chews, his face contemplative.

“Well?”

Makoto closes his eyes and lets out obscene “mmmm” that Rin is fairly certain has no business being let out outside the bedroom.  “This,” he whispers, when he recovers. “Is one of the best things I ever put in my mouth.”

Rin gapes at him. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true though.” Makoto eagerly dips into another forkful of the cake and shoves it into his mouth

If Rin thought Makoto was an expressive eater before, he has certainly gone past that and dived right into _shameless_.  By the time Makoto’s halfway into the cake, he is making what Rin is sure are ecstatic sexual noises with all the blissful moans, his spoon staying in increasingly long time in his mouth, and all the gratuitous licking of icing.

On one hand, it’s a fucking relief that the cake turned out to be every bit worth the trouble he went through to make it. On the other hand, Rin’s pants are at least one size too small already and this is _not_ helping.

The last straw is when Makoto waves a forkful of the stuff in front of Rin’s mouth, smiling cheerfully, telling him to “open up,” and that’s it, Rin abruptly stands up from the table.

“Bathroom,” he says gruffly, before turning and heading up, taking the stairs two at a time without looking down.

He slides into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, before staggering towards the sink. He turns on the faucet and splashes some cold water on his face, hoping to cool the scorching heat on his cheeks. Goddammit, how is it possible that Makoto eating _cake_ is messing him up so badly.

“Calm down, Matsuoka,” he tells himself out loud. “You’ve seen what he looks like when he’s all fucked out. Countless times. This is nothing. You just haven’t been with him for a full week that’s all, and this is just temporary hormonal overload.” That’s right. This is all temporary. Once they finish the dinner, and relocate somewhere else, Rin's going back to familiar territory and Makoto will get his comeuppance there. 

A few loose strands have escaped his ponytail, giving him an excuse to spend an extra minute in the bathroom before he has to face Makoto again. He fixes his hair, wipes his face with a towel, and then washes his hands thoroughly, taking extra care to scrub the back of his hands and the crevices between his fingers.

When he finally opens the bathroom door, Makoto is standing directly across the hall, leaning against the wall, arms folded. He has also discarded his glasses, for reasons Rin doesn't really want to contemplate right now.

“Hey,” he says, smiling brilliantly, like he just didn’t do his level best to make Rin lose his cool earlier. “You okay?”

Rin tries not to think about how long Makoto has already been standing there and if he overheard him talking to himself, because that would be so _uncool_. “Yeah, just— just great,” he says. Oh god did he fucking _stutter_? Rin clears his throat, and rolls back his shoulders. “Are you done with your cake?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says, and licks his lips. “It was excellent.”

“It better be after all the trouble I went through to make it happen,” Rin says dryly, despite desperately trying to keep his composure under Makoto’s scrutiny. “One of the best things you ever put in your mouth huh?”

Makoto’s smile grows even wider, brighter. “One of them at least,” he replies, his gaze unashamedly fixed on Rin’s lips.

Rin’s heartbeat triples, and it takes all his strength not to run back into the bathroom and dunk his head in water again.

Makoto spares him from answering as he gestures to the door on the right with a tilt of his head. “Is this still your room?”

“Yeah.”

The pale yellow hallway lights give Makoto’s smile a soft, alluring glow, highlighting the crest of his cheekbones, lending a spot of brightness to his lips. “Has anything changed?”

Rin shrugs and wipes his curiously sweaty palms on his trousers under the guise of shoving them down his pockets.  “I removed a few posters, and…”

“And?” Is it Rin’s imagination or is Makoto taking a half step closer?

“I uh, I also put up a new shelf for my books...”

“And…?” Nope, definitely not his imagination, Makoto _is_ stepping closer.

“And…” Rin swallows, as Makoto gets close enough for Rin to notice the intricate details on the studded design of Makoto’s belt, and how it seems to be pointing down to— He doesn’t let himself look that far and quickly averts his gaze back to meet Makoto’s. “I got a bigger bed.”

Makoto’s eyes glinted. “Yeah?” he says, moving until he’s directly in front of Rin, in the middle of the hallway. “How much bigger?”

Rin is on the verge of losing it. It would be so easy. Makoto’s close enough to touch, close enough to kiss, close enough to shove against the wall and do what he’s been wanting to do since he opened his door a couple of hours ago. He could, there’s no one else at home, and there’s something so irresistibly hot about not being able to hold back until they get to some place more ergonomic.

But Rin doesn’t. This isn’t another one of their trysts; this is the start of something new, and Rin wants to take his time, make it special.  

With a strength he didn’t know he was capable of, Rin manages to wrench his gaze away as he steps around Makoto to turn the knob of his door. He pauses, taking a second to collect himself, before throwing Makoto a look over his shoulder, with a grin fuelled by pure bravado.

“Why don’t you come in and find out?”

Makoto doesn’t say anything but the intrigued smile on his face is answer enough. Rin’s hand surprisingly doesn’t shake as he pushes the door open, and makes a grand, sweeping gesture to let Makoto inside first, before following after him.

The moment Rin steps inside, Makoto turns around quickly, and places a palm against the door, firmly pushing it closed and Rin stumbles, back flush against the wooden panels.

Rin’s eyes grow wide, and he feels his pulse spike, when Makoto leans in close, leaving the smallest calculable distance where skin doesn’t touch skin between the two of them. “I’ve been wanting to do this the whole day,” Makoto murmurs, his other hand curving around Rin’s cheek, thumb resting on the corner of Rin’s mouth. His eyes are luminous, focused. “May I?”

Rin doesn’t even feel himself move, but the next thing he knows is, his good hand is fisted around Makoto’s tie, tugging down harshly, and then he’s tasting chocolate, dark and bittersweet. Makoto’s mouth is hot on his, opening easily, their tongues sliding against each other’s with a sort of skilful familiarity brought about by months of falling into this routine. He feels Makoto’s hands go down, sliding along the sides of Rin’s ribs before settling on his hips, thumbs hooking on the waistband of Rin’s pants.

Well. So much for taking it slow.

Still not breaking the kiss, Rin lets go of Makoto’s tie to focus on removing it, which was difficult, given the state of his other hand, but a little pain is nothing in the face of a starved, burning desperation, and he succeeds in just loosening it enough to slip it out the collar and start working on the buttons of Makoto’s dress shirt, his hands shaking just a little.

When they finally break away from each other, after an extended length of time made possible by their gifted swimmer’s lungs, Makoto’s suit, tie and dress shirt are already pooled around their feet (Rin is nothing if not goal-oriented), and Rin’s pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, belt buckle undone. Some of Makoto’s hair has gotten into his eyes, and Rin automatically reaches up, fingers threading through the unruly bangs, pushing it back. All they’ve done is kiss, and yet Makoto looks utterly debauched—  his green eyes  are all-pupil beneath his lashes, cheeks flushed pink, bruised lips curved into a smile that steals the air from Rin’s lungs.

It doesn’t occur to him that he’s staring until Makoto’s smile turns playful. “… See something you like?”

Rin feels his ears turn red and he immediately drops his hand to side, looking down. “I thought you wanted to see the bed,” he says, by way of recovery.

Makoto chuckles, a light, sobering sound that puts Rin’s eternally recurring embarrassment on hold for the moment. Rin looks up just as Makoto leans in, brushing his forehead against Rin’s. “Do you really want me to stop now?” he asks, voice scratchy and breathless. And yet he says this while his left hand is already busy navigating around Rin’s back, skimming the top of his ass; his right hand already on the way to divesting Rin of his belt.

It’s a sign that they’ve been doing this for so long that those normally clumsy fingers have no problems methodically removing Rin’s belt one-handed, with quick sharp tugs, the hiss of leather sliding through the hoops sending shivers down Rin’s spine at the promise of what’s to come. “Not really,” he finally admits.

Makoto smiles against Rin’s lips. “Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” he whispers, and proceeds to snap Rin’s belt free from the last loop, with enough force to split the air like the crack of a bullwhip, a sound that goes straight to Rin’s cock, and that’s it, he’s hard and straining against his pants.

The belt lands with an audible clang on the floor when Makoto tosses it carelessly behind him, and it jolts Rin into the realization that they’re still in the fucking _doorway_ , and that they’re basically already moving on autopilot now, fueled by the familiar, breathless rush of need-want- _need._ Makoto slips his hand down Rin’s pants, fingers curling loosely around Rin’s cock like he’s trying to re-familiarize himself with the shape and size of it. Then, he moves, wrist flicking in a steady, familiar pace that makes Rin swear and writhe, shivers trilling up his spine.

It’s just so _easy_ to surrender to this, simply because he always has, without resistance, without fail.

Rin moans, low and deep into Makoto’s mouth, feeling hot all over. There are too many clothes, not enough skin, things are moving so fast and Rin’s head is spinning, torn between wanting to catch up or wrench back control. It’s so difficult, because he’s missed this so much, it’s only been a _week_ , and already, he’s so starved for Makoto’s touch. Now they’re spiraling dangerously down again, and that’s the thing— Rin doesn’t want to _stop_ ; he wants to _shift_ , change gears, trade speed for torque, because there’s no reason to hurry— they’re already where they want to be.

“Makoto,” he manages to gasp out, in between stuttering breaths. He pushes at Makoto’s arm feebly.  “Makoto, wait.”

“What,” Makoto says, sounding a bit disappointed, but he withdraws his hand all the same. “What’s wrong?”

Rin’s cock twitches at the loss of stimuli, but he ignores it and draws back, tucking himself back into his pants with all the dignity he could muster.

“Just.” He swallows, the words catching in his throat. He’s sure his fiery blush is burning him alive but he holds his ground. “I don’t want this to be like the other times.”

Makoto eyes widen in surprise at first, but Rin doesn’t wait long for Makoto to understand. Which is a huge relief because he’s not sure he can explain himself any more without being suffused with the urge to stick his hot face into the snow outside.

Makoto’s smile is so full of heart, and he’s looking at Rin like he hung the stars in the sky, and god, Rin’s starting to spout cheesy poetic tripe now, he’s got it _bad._

“How can I make this different?” Makoto asks, smiling still.

Rin leans back against the door without breaking away from Makoto’s gaze. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

Makoto bites his lip, looking a bit shy, which is kind of ironic considering how he’d been so confident in jacking Rin off a while ago. “Alright,” he says, after a while. His eyes are a little clearer, brighter, and his warm breath brushes across Rin’s cheek like summer vapour. it feels a little like the beginning of a wonderful dream. “Close your eyes.”

Rin’s pulse starts to spike uncontrollably at the tenderness of Makoto’s command and he obeys, his eyes fluttering closed. A second later, he feels Makoto’s fingers sliding through his hair, before circling back to cradle the nape of his neck.  Then, slowly, he tugs Rin forward, as he leans in.

There’s a split second rush of air between their lips before Makoto angles his head and slots his mouth perfectly against Rin’s, lips soft and light, like the first touch of the early spring breeze, or the fall of cherry blossoms. Rin thinks about all the times Makoto kissed him before, and how this is _vastly_ different. This time, there is no urgency, no bite, but there is _heat_ , absolute and irresistible, coursing through Rin with an almost heart-breaking gentleness.

Rin’s refuses to believe he’s being a total cliché or anything, but he’s also pretty _sure_ this is what it means to _melt_ into a kiss.

He can feel Makoto’s fingers slipping away from his nape. Rin’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, but he wants to keep this longer, make this last, so he reaches up, enclosing Makoto’s face in his hands and takes over, kissing back. It’s a bit clumsy, more passion than finesse, but it couldn’t be any more perfect.

Makoto’s hands have found their way back on Rin’s hips now, and Rin loves how it feels like they belong there, anchoring Rin, keeping him steady, grounded.

As Makoto presses closer, deepening the kiss, Rin imagines the two of them kissing like this somewhere else, anywhere else; like against the trunk of that cherry blossom tree in Iwatobi High’s pool grounds, or in that alleyway behind his favourite café in Sydney. It would be sweet, like this; it would be like everything and nothing he ever imagined, and they’d be kissing like it’s always the first time every time, kissing like it’ll never be enough.

He starts thinking back to things that have actually happened, the times he cheered himself up staring at his pictures with Makoto on his phone, the times he felt genuine pride seeing Makoto beat his own records, that time he felt a moment of deep, indescribable terror at the thought of Makoto vanishing from his life, if Haru didn’t save him from the ocean all those months ago.

Makoto is here now though, alive and real, kissing Rin still, their bodies flush together, Makoto’s incredible warmth seeping into Rin’s skin. Rin starts to imagine that one day, he’ll be pulling Makoto behind one of the airport pillars before he leaves for another country, pressing him into the cold metal and granite, the way they’re doing now. “Wait for me,” he’ll murmur into Makoto’s mouth, fingers digging into the wool of Makoto’s sweater, before pulling away, looking at Makoto through blurry eyes, before whispering—

_I love you._

Rin freezes as the realization hits him like the force of a flash flood, blinding, overwhelming and without warning.

Makoto immediately notices and draws away. “Rin?”

Rin’s hands drop to his side, and he looks up without seeing anything. “I…”

It’s like he’s suddenly thrown in the middle of an out-of-focus picture, the rest of his world becoming muted and blurred, surreal and far-away. He wonders when it happened; when he crossed that line, crossed it so far he can’t see it any more. Maybe it happened long ago; he’s just been successful in denying it. 

Makoto touches Rin’s cheek with the pads of two fingers. “Rin you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?"

 _Scared._ Rin swallows. Yes, that’s it. It’s too much; Rin’s pulse is roaring in his ears, and he’s feeling so many things at once—he’s confused, he’s terrified, he’s so in love he can’t handle it—

He can’t do this right now.

So Rin’s defense mechanism kicks in, invisible shields raising up, and with a quickly muttered apology, he shoves Makoto out of his room before slamming the door shut behind him, heart thundering in his chest.

He leans against the door and slowly slides down, still staring at nothing at all. It takes a moment for his actions to sink in.

He just kicked out the love of his life. Chuck it all up to stupid life decisions case number 123204.

He hears Makoto rapping on the door from the other side. “Um, you’re gonna have to help me out here Rin— what did I do?” he calls out softly.

 _Nothing. You’re just this beautiful vision of kindness and benevolence, one of my best friends, and I’m_ in love _with you_.  “Shut up, I can’t hear myself think,” he says. His voice sounds strange, like he’s hearing it from outside of his body, and he might as well be, because he must’ve been possessed by some psychotic spirit to do what he just did—what kind of a person throws out the boy he just realized he’s in love with?

There’s short stretch of silence from the other side, and Rin hears Makoto shift and lean against the door, sinking down, mirroring Rin.

“… Are you scared?” Makoto asks softly.

Rin’s buries his face into his knees. That’s just the icing on the cake isn’t it? Makoto’s mind-reading abilities have extended to Rin.  If anything is a telling sign that he is so far gone, it’s _this._

“Maybe,” he answers after a bit.

“… Why?”

Why? Because this whole thing started because they both couldn’t have Haru. It was supposed to be a joke, because substitution has never been the practical solution to loss. Makoto isn’t Haru, and Rin isn’t Haru, and they both went into this knowing they’re only doing it for the fun of it.

But somewhere between Haru’s rejection and Makoto’s willingness to participate and perpetuate this mutual “comforting” system they started on a whim, things _changed_. Eventually, it was no longer about comfort but a genuine desire to keep coming back. Eventually, sex became less of the objective and more of the means.

Eventually, Makoto became that person Rin thinks about when he wakes up, the one he thinks about before he goes to sleep. The ubiquitous “he” in Rin’s life. And _that,_ he never saw coming.

His eyes veer to his desk, where his MP3 player is placed, the buds of waterproof earphones Makoto gave him hanging just a bit off the edge, a burst of lime green on dark mahogany. He then remembers that day in the music store, exactly a week ago. He closes his eyes and remembers the intimacy of that moment, music connecting the two of them in a way no skin contact has ever done. He remembers the clarity of woodwinds, the clap of the bass drum beating like thunder through the heavens, the haunting melody of the violins, the exquisite blend of voices that brought tears to his eyes.

He remembers then, how it made him feel.

_Standing at a high vantage point, watching waves crash along the shore, the arc a seasoned diver makes, jumping headfirst off the edge of the cliff, the rush of air, trusting the water’s deep enough to take you—_

_A leap of faith._

Rin doesn’t realize he hasn’t said a word at all, until he hears Makoto speaking up again.

“…Well okay, if you don’t want to answer that, do you want me to give you some space?”

 _No. Yes. Maybe_. “I don’t know.”

A long pause, and no movement from the other side. “Are you still out there?” Rin asks.

“…  Um, my clothes are in there…”

Right. Rin looks at the shirt in question, currently just brushing up against his toes. He reaches out, clutches it to his face and breathes deeply, inhaling Makoto’s earthy scent. He remembers everything this past week, and the words of his friends, who have done everything they can to make Rin see what he’s only realizing now.

 _You know Rin-chan, you’d be surprised at the things you find out when you stop pretending_.

_You can be scared and do something about it. Or you can just be scared._

_Be honest, Rin. If you lie, you lose._

_If things are changing between us, then I want us to change with it_.

He’s having a crisis on the floor of his bedroom, clutching Makoto’s shirt in his hands, while Makoto’s knocking at the other side of the door, calling his name. He feels like the biggest anti-climax in the history of romance.

“Rin,” Makoto says again, pleading.

Rin gets up on shaky legs, gripping Makoto’s shirt in his fist. _Leap of faith, huh?_ He takes a deep breath, and opens the door just wide enough to peek out. Half of him expects Makoto to barge in as soon as the opening is there, and half of him is hoping that he doesn’t.

Makoto’s standing awkwardly in front of his door, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips. He’s looking at Rin cautiously, waiting for him to say something, neither pushing Rin or backing off, waiting for Rin to push him away or pull him back.

After a long time, Rin slants his eyes to the ground. He does neither. “Sorry about that,” he mutters, and the way Makoto’s expression just _soften_ s with relief makes Rin feel even more of a heel for kicking him out. “Come in.”

He thrusts Makoto’s shirt in his hands and then whips around hastily, making a beeline towards his bed, and promptly flings himself on it. He wraps the duvet around himself, as Makoto steps into the room and closes the door behind him. Makoto looks at the shirt in his hands for a few moments before hesitantly putting it back on without buttoning it up. He looks at Rin uncertainly, as if trying to ask him for permission to move closer.  It makes Rin even more ashamed of himself because the last thing he wants is for Makoto to get the impression that he has wronged Rin somehow, when it’s Rin who’s acting like the basketcase who can’t even handle being in love.

“Sit wherever you want,” Rin says, when Makoto doesn’t move. Makoto shifts his weight awkwardly for a moment before choosing to take Rin’s desk chair and dragging it beside the bed. It’s a prudent choice. Far enough to provide the needed space, but close enough to reach out, should space be rendered unnecessary, even if it stings a lot that Makoto’s keeping his distance.

Part of Rin wants nothing more than to just pull Makoto to the bed and fuck the fear out of him, put this off for another day. But he can’t afford that now. They have to do this now.

Makoto wrings his hands nervously. “So… what was that all about?”

Rin curls in tighter around himself. “You’re right,” he admits, in a barely audible whisper. “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“Because of many things. I’m scared because things are happening so fast. Because I’m not used to things going my way even after I know I fucked up, because I’m not Haru, because I’m—”

“—Haru again? Don’t you think it’s about time that we stop making this about him?” Makoto interrupts quietly.

Rin blinks. It’s unusual for Makoto to interrupt him mid-explanation. “I’m not making it all about him- it’s just one of the many factors that are driving me nuts,” he explains slowly. He doesn’t know why but he really wants Makoto to understand this. Haru has made it clear to Rin where he stands in their lives. 

But isn’t it saying something that Makoto chose to latch on to that fact instead of everything else Rin had admitted to? Maybe he does need this, put things in perspective. Logically speaking, this is the final leg of this bizarre triangle they have. Rin already knows how Haru feels about Makoto, and they both know what they feel for each other. The only missing thing is how Makoto feels about Haru now. Just one last question to tie up loose ends. For both their peace of mind.

It's been more than three months, and this is the first time they're ever discussing Haru in the context of their relationship. It's about time they put an end to this long hesitation.

“Okay... Well, what is it about Haru that’s bothering you?” Makoto asks.

Rin sighs, steeling himself for what would no doubt be the side B of his conversation with Haru this morning. “Haru told me that you took it hard.”

“Took what hard?”

Rin bites his lip, then turns his head just enough to look Makoto in the eye. “His rejection.”

Makoto looks surprised. “Oh. He told you that?”

“Yeah. I didn’t ask him or anything, he just volunteered that info.”

“I see.” Makoto’s brow furrows, his mouth set in a straight line. That shift in expression immediately discomfits Rin, filling him with a sudden bout of uncertainty— shouldn’t he have said what he just did, did he just unwittingly implicate Haru, oh shit, what if he’s not supposed to tell this to Makoto, what if this is something Haru assumes Rin would keep to himself, _oh shit I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up—_

“Well he’s right,” Makoto says, cutting through Rin’s slew of self-deprecating thoughts. “But what does it matter if I did?”

Rin works his jaw a little. “How do you feel about him _now_?”

At this, Makoto’s face relaxes. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Who said anything about worrying?” Rin snaps back reflexively, before casting his glower back on the loose thread of his duvet. “I just want to know okay?”

Makoto does this thing with his face that suggests that he’s carefully considering his answer. “Rin,” he starts hesitantly. “I’m not going to lie to you.”

Well those are certainly comforting words. Rin stiffens a little, gripping the sheets, but he looks at Makoto expectantly all the same.

“You know why I took it hard?” Makoto continues. “Because it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it should.”

Now _that_ was unexpected.  Rin straightens up. “Uh. Can you go back and explain how that works out?”

Makoto sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, a habit he usually employs when he’s trying hard to find the most succinct choice of words to convey the many things he wants to say. “Look, it’s the first time I ever confessed to anyone, and it was in less than ideal circumstances to boot,” he starts. “But for all it’s worth, that was my first confession. And I was rejected. So, while I told you I had my whole life to be prepared for that answer, it didn’t mean that I wasn’t bothered by it. It just didn’t hurt.”

“Then we got in to this arrangement, and we didn’t stop. We kept doing it, and then eventually, I stopped being guilty. Before I knew it, it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. It was about _you._ I kept doing it for you, and not because I couldn’t have Haru.”

“That doesn’t answer the question at all ,” Rin points out bluntly.

“I’m getting there, okay.” Makoto fidgets a little in his seat, but his voice doesn't waver as he continues. “Haru...  is a constant presence in my life. I guess I got so used to him being my best friend that I assumed it was a logical step to take it to the next level. But I was wrong. Because when he rejected me, nothing about our relationship changed,” he explains further.  "That’s when I realized, _there is no next level_.  Relationships that don't change are not any less important than relationships that do."

He takes a deep breath, knuckles white around the dark material of his pants. “That’s why it didn’t hurt when Haru rejected me," he finishes quietly, before looking up and meeting Rin's gaze.

“And that’s why it hurt, when I thought _you_ did."

Rin feels like the ground was pulled up from beneath his feet. On one hand, Makoto’s revelation has a premise that leads to something much bigger, something that Rin never allowed himself to hope for until now; on the other hand, Makoto admitted to being hurt by Rin’s actions, which also automatically makes Rin feel like the scum of the earth. More conflicting emotions; he’s had a ridiculous amount of those lately.

“My relationship with you is different from my relationship with Haru,” Makoto continues, and that’s when his voice trembles, just a little, his emotions seeping in. “And then I realized another thing.”

“What?”

Makoto hesitates for only the briefest of moments. “That you can love people equally, but differently.”

Rin’s actually feels his jaw drop, his eyes widening, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe, intoxicated by the promise in those words. Wordlessly, he leans forward, hoping, waiting, yearning.

“Rin,” Makoto says again, saying his name like a gentle reminder, like he wants to make sure Rin is still with him, in this moment. “Rin, I love you.”

The world doesn’t stop, no. But Rin swears he can hear waves crashing.

He’s pretty sure that on the outside, his face is frozen in shock, or wide-eyed amazement, probably an unattractive combination of both, and yet all he can think about is Makoto, and those three words, of Makoto holding his hand, the two of them standing at that great vantage point above the sea, Makoto smiling at him in a way that says ‘ _I’ll take that first step off the edge, so that I’ll be there when you jump.’_

His heart already feels like it’s about to soar, spreading silver wings into an infinite sky. He opens his mouth, ready to take that leap…

...And then the shrill tones of Carameldansen shatters the quiet, making the two of them jump.

Makoto’s face, which was previously full of hope and longing, is now sporting an expression like he’s torn between throwing his phone or himself out the window, and also seriously considering doing both.

Rin’s the farthest thing from mad though—it’s going to take more than an ill-timed phone call to toss him off his solid footing on Cloud 9. In fact, an asteroid can crash land on his back yard right now and he’d still think of it as his own personal wishing star. “Answer it ,” he tells Makoto with a placating smile.

Makoto nods and quickly fishes out his phone, fumbling a bit as he brings it to his ear. “Haru, this isn’t really the—“ He stops short, and his frown slowly changes from exasperation to resignation. “Oh uh, yes, Ran, I’m in a safe place… Yes, that’s with Rin. No, I’m not leaving you guys for him, come on, it’s just one night!”

Rin hides a smile in his sleeve, as Makoto gets progressively more embarrassed.

“No, I didn’t elope with Rin, Ren, where did you even learn that word? … You have the worst timing Haru…” He suddenly turns adorably crimson, and he glances at Rin guiltily. “No we’re not! Well not yet. Oh god please tell me you didn’t say that in front of the twins.”

That’s it, Rin can’t help it now, he turns around and smothers his laughter in his pillow, deciding to at least spare Makoto the indignity of laughing in his face.

A few seconds later, he hears Makoto making an impatient goodbye, before turning off his phone with a frustrated groan. Rin finally turns to face him, grinning.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Makoto says, sounding miserable. “Ran was the one who set that ringtone. I was planning to change it—“

“—I love you too,” Rin cuts in, apropos of nothing, the words coming to him swiftly, naturally. He’s only a little bit surprised with how he’s so calm about it—the part of himself that’s scared of giving voice to what he feels has long since retreated— at least for something as monumental as this. For Makoto, he doesn’t want to wait for the right time anymore, he wants to be reckless for all the right reasons, and after that stunt he pulled earlier, now is a good time as any to tell him everything, anything. No more hiding. No more holding back.

Makoto for his part looks _stunned_ , which is  a reaction pretty much par for the course as far as hastily blurted love confessions go.

Rin laughs softly. “Don’t look so surprised,” he chides, nudging Makoto’s knee with his toe. “You should already know that.”

Makoto snaps out of his awestruck daze. “Yes well, I wasn’t sure,” he replies light-heartedly, smiling back. “But I guess that amazing dinner spread was a huge clue.”

Rin mock-pouts. “That’s it? I’m disappointed, I think I showed my affections much earlier than that.”

“Well, there were the kittens in the warehouse,” Makoto muses, leaning back on Rin’s chair, tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully.  “Or that time you sang 3 English songs in a row while looking at me all the while. What was one of them called? Burethuresuu by the Korrus? You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice did you?”

“It’s Breathless by the Corrs, and as if you weren’t doing the same thing with your One OK Rock line-up,” Rin shoots back.

Makoto laughs good-naturedly, the sound of it like bells in Rin’s ears, and it suddenly occurs to him that he loves Makoto’s laugh, the way it sounds so light for someone of his build. He loves Makoto being relaxed and happy, even if it’s for all the mundane reasons. He just loves Makoto period.

“Okay, you got me,” Makoto says when his laughter dies down. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, chin propped up on one hand. “What else?”

Rin mirrors him. “What else what?”

Makoto winks at him. He actually _winks_ , and that’s it, another weapon is added to the Tachibana Makoto arsenal of life-ruining facial expressions. “What else clued you in that I was in love with you all along?”

Rin shrugs. “Well it may be that wicked Orpheus experience— you did pull some strings to give me that. Or when you helped me with my Ancient Japanese Literature essay—that took dedication and an ungodly amount of patience.”

“Hmmm," Makoto muses. "Those are good benchmarks.”

“No wait, I forgot the most important part!” Rin exclaims, sitting up straight, snapping his fingers decisively. “Monster In-ear headphones. That’s the stuff of true love right there.”

Makoto laughs again, raising both hands as if in surrender, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Rin’s heart does a little flutter in his chest. Makoto is simply _sublime_ when he’s happy, and Rin had been this close to crushing that happiness because of his own insecurity, he has to take a few moments to close his eyes and let the gravity of that realization pass.

Well, it’s not too late to make up for it. He leaps off the bed, grabs his in-ear earphones from his desk, and climbs back in.

Makoto stops laughing and quirks an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?“

“Taking a picture of the proof of your love,” Rin answers cheekily, and does so, the tip of his tongue poking out as he arranges the headphones on his pillow (it’s not heart shaped, no, more like an apple with a… pointy chin really), before positioning his phone to take a picture. “I realize I haven’t bragged about these yet, my upperclassmen are going to be green with jealousy.”

“You’re updating your facebook status NOW?”

“Yup.” Rin uploads the image, types a few words, then clicks update. He shows the screen to Makoto. “What do you think?”

Makoto looks at the screen, and blushes.

Rin grins, and nudges him in the ribs. “Romantic right?”

“Hardly,” Makoto says, but he’s smiling so beautifully, it’s impossible for Rin not to fall in love.

He scoots over to the opposite side of the bed, and pats the space beside him. “What are you still doing over there?”

Makoto shakes his head, still smiling, and pushes away the desk chair behind him as he slowly stands up, his open dress shirt flaring around his hips as he does so. He bites his lip, stalling for a few seconds, before asking:

“Do you think I can get that hug now?”

Rin feels the corner of his lips raising up into a wide toothy grin, thrilled that Makoto remembered. “Really? We have my whole house to ourselves, and you ask for a hug?” he asks teasingly, even as he scrambles off the bed.

Makoto’s already reaching out to him and soon enough, he’s enveloped in those huge strong arms, so warm and safe. Rin presses his face somewhere on the junction of Makoto’s neck and shoulder and breathes in, tightening his own arms around Makoto’s back.

“Thank you, Rin,” Makoto murmurs into Rin’s hair, and something in the way he says it, like Rin’s the one who has been patient and understanding, like Rin’s the one who has gifted him something precious, makes something inside Rin break, like the final crack on a wall on the verge of collapsing. Before he knows it, he’s crying into Makoto’s shoulder, so overwhelmed with the strength of his feelings and how amazing it is that Makoto hasn’t given up on him, and that Makoto is willing to give _so much more_ to him.

Makoto says nothing and just holds him tighter, understanding that there are just times when words are not needed, and Rin is so _grateful_ for this. These are the things he could say: _“I’m sorry, I was so stupid.  You’re amazing, how are you even real, what did I ever do to deserve this,”_   but really, with Makoto, there’s no need to bring up the deflection of words to explain his tears; Makoto understands without saying anything. This is Rin at his most vulnerable, honest and raw. Makoto knows how difficult it is for Rin to fully open himself to anyone and treats it like it’s the greatest gift Rin could ever give him.

They stay like that for a long time. Makoto rocks him slowly, running his fingers through Rin’s hair, his other hand anchored on the small of Rin’s back.  Rin is gripping Makoto’s shirt so hard, his hands are shaking, and yet he tries to press impossibly closer, his tears forming dark spots on the starch white material of Makoto’s collar.

When Rin’s shoulders finally stop quaking, his breathing slowing down, only then does Makoto pull away.

Rin sniffles, and keeps his forehead on Makoto’s clavicle. “You’re terrible,” he mutters. “You haven’t officially even been my boyfriend for 10 seconds and you already made me cry.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better. In fact you should stay over.”

“Really? I wouldn’t peg you for the type of guy who sleeps with someone on the second date.” Makoto’s smile is flirty, relaxed, and Rin grins, despite his puffy eyes and wet lashes. God, this boy can send him crying and then grinning like a loon in the space of twenty seconds, he’ll be the end of him one day.

He punches Makoto lightly on the chest. “Now who’s presumptuous, I was thinking along the lines of just cuddling and holding hands, while you sweep me off my feet, singing me cheesy love songs and telling me how cute I am.”

“As long as they’re not in English,” Makoto says. “Otherwise, you’re not going to be so much swept off your feet as falling over backwards laughing.”

“We’ll work on your English,” Rin insists, determined. “You’re going to sing me a proper 90’s song yet.”

“I’d like that.”

Makoto looks so serious, and Rin’s knees kind of want to turn traitor to him for the nth time this night, because the mental image of Makoto singing the Pretender’s “Stand by You” for him, suddenly makes him so emotional, and fuck, is he going to cry again, wow what is wrong with him?

Makoto cuts off his thoughts with a soft kiss, their lips clinging for a moment, catching Rin off guard.

Rin blinks at him when he breaks away. “What was that for?”

Makoto thumbs a tear from the corner of Rin’s eyes. “You looked like you were about to cry again.”

“Yes well, that’s because we’ve established that you’re a terrible boyfriend.”

Makoto chuckles, light and airy, and then leans his forehead against Rin’s, cradling the side of Rin’s cheek with one hand. His eyes, bottle-green and intense, look into Rin’s, and Rin forgets to breathe for a moment, floored by Makoto’s full attention at point blank range. “Mmm, I guess I have _a lot_ of making up to do.”

By some miraculous act of god, Rin manages to work his mouth open enough to whisper back. “Yeah, you’d better be making it up to me _all night long._ ” Hey wow, he didn’t botch that up, instant smooth operator skills level-up.

Rin catches the mischievous glint in Makoto’s eyes for a split second, before he feels himself getting pushed into the mattress, his back landing with an unceremonious thump, knocking the breath out of him.

He scrambles to get the rest of himself up on the bed, just in time to see Makoto climb on top of him, elbows locked on either side of Rin’s head.

“Gladly,” Makoto says, and kisses him again.

*

On Rin’s facebook status:

> Got new headphones. ♥
> 
> **Mood:** Matsuoka Rin is feeling _happy_. **Tagged:** Tachibana Makoto.

~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post A/N: Oh god this is why I don’t write romance, I get the order of the steps wrong. I’m sorry, everything else I’ve ever written is angst or porn or humour so this was a real challenge for me. I hope I did the MakoRins justice though! 
> 
> Again, the story technically ends here, but I’ll be adding a short epilogue soon to wrap things up properly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is unnecessary porn and totally necessary steps towards the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Sospi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unsospiro) for the beta!
> 
> Okay here it is folks. I don't think this counts as an epilogue any more, seeing as it's well over 7k words, but nevertheless, this marks the end of this fic. It's been a wild ride from start to finish, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Rin hums as he pulls out the nori sheets from the cupboard and lowers the heat on the miso soup he’s cooking. He sets it down on the counter and looks for the kitchen scissors under the mess of utensils and miscellaneous ingredients he hasn’t had the opportunity to clean up yet.

The kitchen looks like a war zone. Rin had enlisted Makoto’s help to bake Gou’s cherry tarts, and while they were successful, they weren’t exactly neat. Or rather, Makoto wasn’t very neat. At one point in time, they got frosting on each other’s faces, causing Rin to swear up a storm, which thus prompted Makoto to corner Rin against the kitchen counter, laughing into his mouth, like a total movie cliché. They kissed until they were breathless, getting flour on each other’s clothes and hair, while the smell of baking sugar and fresh cherries wafted throughout the room.

Makoto had to return home by lunch though, to take care of his siblings, and Rin made him bring home some tarts to thank him for his help. He checks his phone for the time, and notices that his Facebook has 44+ notifications.

Rin’s latest status got 32 likes, and several comments, both from old and current friends:

**Matsuoka Rin:** _Got new headphones <3_

**Mood:** Matsuoka Rin is feeling _happy_.    **Tagged:** Tachibana Makoto

> **Shigino Kisumi** : Ooh, so that’s what you’re calling it these days huh Rin? Tell Makoto congratulations for me ♥ (‘∀’●)♥
> 
> **Yamazaki Sousuke:** …Well, I never saw this coming. 
> 
> **Ryugazaki Rei:** Those are excellent earphones Rin-san, but I don’t think lime green looks beautiful with your hair.
> 
> **Nanase Haruka:** I knew it.
> 
> **Matsuoka Gou:**   Congratulations onii-chan! Don’t forget my cherry tarts! <3
> 
> **Hazuki Nagisa** : WHOO congratulations RinRin! ｷﾀ━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━! But I think your status has too many extra words. _New_ and _phones_ specifically.

He’s in the middle of coming up with a scathing reply to Nagisa’s classy joke, when he hears the front door opening, and ten seconds later, Gou steps into the kitchen.

“That smells wonderful onii-chan!” Gou says, and loosely hugs Rin from behind. She’s gotten a lot more affectionate since Rin stopped being a generic douche to people, and while Rin’s still getting used to it, he doesn’t mind it. In fact, it feels great, being close to his sister again. 

Rin ruffles her hair, and Gou pouts, but leans into the touch anyway.

“Does this mean you’ve finally pulled your head out of your ass and admitted to liking Makoto-senpai as more than a quick fuck?”

Rin nearly drops his stirring spoon into the miso soup. He glares at his sister. “Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?”

Gou rolls her eyes. “Three guesses.”

“Is it Nagisa? It’s Nagisa isn’t it? Don’t get too attached to him Gou, I’m going to poison him one of these days.”

“Onii-chan stop that,” Gou scolds. “Nagisa-kun is a bit eccentric but he means well. And I did not learn that from him—he doesn’t even swear that much. Unlike some people I know.”

“Yeah well you’d swear a lot too if you have to contend with funnel web spiders five times before breakfast for the better part of three years,” Rin retorts. He finally locates the kitchen scissors under the muffin tins and starts cutting the nori into strips.

Gou just sticks her tongue out at him. “Whatever onii-chan,” she says as she walks past him towards the sink to wash her hands. “Now that you’re officially together with Makoto-senpai, that makes you a rather controversial figure in your swim team huh?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you’re dating the captain of the rival team, and you are the brother of the manager! So much fraternizing with the enemy,” Gou replies, with an uncharacteristically sly wink that distracts Rin just enough to enable Gou to sneak out a cherry tart from the tray cooling on the counter.

Rin swats at her arm, but fails to stop her from biting into the pastry. “So? What’s the big deal?”

Gou swallows a bite of tart. “Nothing!” She giggles when Rin glowers at her and makes a big show of shielding the tarts with a large plastic tray cover. “But hey, wouldn’t it be cool, if you, you know, become the captain next year?”

Rin whips around and stares at his sister for a few long seconds, watching as Gou continues to blink curiously at him, before coming to the conclusion that his sister isn’t joking at all. “Yeah no, that’s not happening,” he mutters, as he pulls out utensils from the cupboard to start setting the table.

“Why not? You have the muscles for it!” She looks so serious and offended at Rin’s lack of belief in himself.

“Great bodies don’t net you a captainship Gou,” Rin answers, because he wouldn’t put it past Gou to actually believe that a person’s musculature has any bearing on their leadership abilities. He lays out the placemats on the table and goes back to his soup pot. “Besides, after that stunt I pulled at the regionals? Fat chance.”

Instead of making immature faces and launching into a diatribe of how ‘muscle builders are some of the most disciplined persons on the planet which would consequently make for great leadership skills like that governor of California in the US blah blah etc etc.’ Gou just smiles serenely, before handing out a bowl for Rin to ladle soup in.

“You never know.”

*

_~7 months later~_

“So yeah, I’m thinking that you could include these circuit exercises for your land training,” Rin suggests, as he grabs the nearest stack of papers he could reach from the bottom of his desk drawer, and stuffs them under the clipboard Mikoshiba-buchou bequeathed to him.

“Right,” Makoto murmurs absently, as he highlights a line on the paper he’s holding with a red ballpen. He bites his lip, eyes darting between his paper and Rin. “Um, how do you spell exercise in English again?”

“E-X-E-R-C-I-S-E,” Rin recites automatically, and Makoto makes a determined effort to carefully write each letter down. His grip on the clip board shifts a little, and it doesn’t escape Rin’s attention that Makoto’s actually scribbling on a graphing paper with what looks to be a hastily solved trigonometry problem. The word EXERCISE is written in bold block letters along the longest side of an obtuse triangle, and nothing else.

“Thanks,” Makoto says. He starts tapping his pen on the wood of the desk, a maddening staccato beat that only highlights the ludicrous farce they’re putting up as they stubbornly wait for the other to cave first.

“No problem,” Rin answers. He tugs at the collar of his Samezuka jacket and flips a few pages on his own clipboard, coming to what seems to be an honest attempt at first year English homework,  except the owner kept fucking up halfway, if the incongruous amounts of Katakana is any indication.

A few more minutes pass, and Rin uses that time actually correcting the English assignment and getting mind-boggled by word definitions he suspects were sourced from Urban Dictionary. He glances up, catches Makoto chewing on the end of his pen before scribbling on his paper again.

Finally, there’s a short knock on the door before it opens, and Sousuke pokes his head in. “Everyone’s heading back now. Are you guys done with your meeting yet?” 

“Nah, I’m still outlining Rei’s training regimen,” Rin says without missing a beat, kicking Makoto lightly under the table.

“Your inputs were really helpful Yamazaki-kun,” Makoto adds smoothly, with a beatific smile that would’ve effortlessly fooled Sousuke, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that Sousuke’s grossly aware of their unimpressive display of purported inhibition.

Still, Sousuke, for all his severity and general distaste for Rin’s frequent bouts of indiscretion, is still Rin’s best friend, and best friends always have each other’s backs. “Don’t forget to tell him not to overexert it,” he says, and throws Rin a pointed look. Then, in a much louder voice, he adds: “Alright, I’ll be heading on up to the dorm now.”

“Yeah okay, see you later!” Rin chirps.

The door shuts with a distinct _click._

Rin watches as Makoto pretends to go back to his abused math homework / training sheets for three more seconds before the clipboard is violently pushed away, landing on the floor with a dull pang. Makoto looks up at Rin, bright green eyes just this side of manic, stripped free of all their previous veneer of control. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Rin promptly tosses away his own clipboard, hoists himself up on the desk, hooks his toes on the cuff of Makoto’s collar and _yanks._ Makoto doesn’t yelp, but his hands slam quite loudly on the middle of the desk to keep himself from toppling over and Rin steadies him with his hands this time, as he sets both legs on either side of Makoto’s hips, and cranes his neck up a little to capture Makoto’s lips. Their teeth clack, but Rin doesn’t mind it much; he simply adjusts, cocks his head a little to the side, and it’s suddenly perfect, even if they’re both still a little too eager, a little too impatient.

“He did lock the door right?” Makoto asks against Rin’s mouth, hands already working on divesting Rin of his jacket.

“Yeah he did,” Rin answers, slipping his arms out of his sleeves and carelessly hanging the jacket over the back of his chair.

“Great,” Makoto says, and kisses him again, hard and just a little bit greedy, sending hot flashes across Rin’s skin.

“How long until Haru gets out of the pool?” Rin murmurs, as he slides his fingers down Makoto’s chest, making sure to stroke his left nipple, gently squeezing the hardened nub between the dull flat of his nails.

Makoto shudders, hips jerking unsteadily, as he gasps against Rin’s mouth. “Fifteen minutes since I told him we’re catching the 6PM train.”

Rin swipes the tip of his tongue against the roof of Makoto’s mouth, simultaneously trailing his hand lower, fingers skimming just beneath the line of Makoto’s leg skins. “Better make this quick then,” he says. Much to Makoto’s dismay, Rin withdraws his hand, and gets off the desk, manhandling Makoto into switching places with him.

After more than a year of practice, the delicate art of the quickie is something they’ve long since perfected, and before long, Rin has Makoto on his back on the desk, his knees spread wide, leg skins hanging off one ankle, as Rin makes the last of his preparations, fingers twisting inside Makoto in a way that makes Makoto bite into the meat of his palm to keep from making too much noise. 

Makoto fidgets anxiously, when Rin pulls his fingers out. “Are you sure this desk can take my weight?”

“If it can handle Mikoshiba-buchou, it can handle you,” Rin replies, pressing Makoto down on the desk with one hand while he fishes out a square foil packet from one of the desk drawers with the other.

Makoto looks vaguely horrified. “… How do you—“

“—Captains’ book of secrets,” Rin answers with a grin, as he rolls on the condom and slicks his cock with the rest of the lube on his fingers. “And yes, I’ve disinfected this. Thrice.”

“…Okay,” Makoto says meekly. The mild apprehension on his face quickly dissolves to a look of wondrous bliss, and he lets out an appreciative moan when Rin finally sinks into him, slow and deep. Rin sighs, as Makoto opens around him, surrounding his cock with a fierce tightness, and a heat that is almost unbearable.

He patiently waits for Makoto to adjust, keeping a close eye on his grip around the table edge. “Are you good?” he asks, when he sees Makoto’s hands relax, knuckles regaining colour.

Makoto takes a deep breath and shifts a little, and Rin inhales sharply when the movement makes Rin go even deeper. “Yeah, you can move now.”

“Finally,” Rin groans and swiftly complies, his thrusts languid but thorough. “I’ve been looking forward to this the whole day.”

“We have sex all the time”

 “Yeah but this is the first time we’re doing this in my office, with my new status as captain of Samezuka.”

“Are all our – _haaah_ \- captain meetings going to include this in the agenda?”

“Only if you want to.”

Makoto laughs, a high breathy sound that makes Rin pause for a bit just to meet Makoto’s eyes and smile. Makoto returns the gesture and relaxes even more around him. He shimmies lower to lock his ankles around the small of Rin’s back. “We’re not being very good captains then.”

“Terrible. Absolutely no-good. Totally irresponsible,” Rin agrees. He hikes Makoto’s thighs a little higher, and widens his own stance. He’s about to experimentally thrust at a new angle, when the most inane thought suddenly strikes him.

He stops.

Dazed, Makoto lets out soft whine, looking at Rin through hazy, confused eyes. “Why’d you sto—“

“—Holy crap, she was right,” Rin blurts out.

“What—who’s right?”

“Gou,” Rin replies, scowling as the memory of his sister’s knowing smile flashed at the forefront of his mind. “She said I was going to become the captain.”

 “She did?”

“Yeah. Of course, her sole basis was because I have the muscles for it, but she was still right.”

Makoto blinks at him, looking undecided for a few moments, before gracing him with an indulgent smile. “Well… you do have an amazing body.”

Rin huffs and looks away. “You’re biased. And she’s biased.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true!”

 Rin ignores this. “I’m surprised she hasn’t said ‘I told you so’ yet.”

“… Maybe she doesn’t want to rub it in?”

“Unlikely. Maybe she forgot about it.”

“… Yeah maybe.”

“Still, who would have thought huh? Maybe she talked to Mikoshiba-buchou—“

“—Rin.”

“What.”

Makoto throws him an exasperated look. “Can we not talk about your sister while we’re fucking?”

“Right. Sorry,” Rin mumbles, and gives a particularly sharp thrust that has Makoto arching up, muscles flexing beneath his skin. He waits for Makoto’s back to resettle on the desk, before pulling out halfway. “Better?”

Makoto makes a low keening sound within his throat, which pretty much answers that question.

Rin grins and slowly cants his hips forward once more, staying deep this time, resorting to quick shallow thrusts. Makoto’s moans turn softer, breathier, as his body tries to acclimate to the less hurried pace. The wood of the desk creaks a little with every surge of Rin’s hips, but it holds, which is only to be expected, given how much Mikoshiba-buchou vouched for its integrity.

“Harder,” Makoto pleads, and punctuates this by tightening around Rin’s cock, which almost makes Rin lose his rhythm. “Rin, come _on_.”

“So demanding,” Rin murmurs, but complies, pushing Makoto’s knees wider, shifting his angle a bit, going back to a more intense pace. He must have hit something particularly wonderful because Makoto gasps, and his left arm comes flying from its iron grip on the desk, bending it so that it lays perpendicular to his head. 

“There, oh _there_ ,” Makoto breathes, peering at Rin through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed, his hair a wild mess across his forehead. “Faster Rin, please.”

That thoroughly debauched look coupled with the way Makoto sweetly breathes his name is almost enough to make Rin come, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing so. Makoto doesn't fight _fair_. Rin would glare at him for playing dirty but it’s physically impossible to express any sort of displeasure right now, not when Makoto’s like this, hot, needy and desperate, making keening fucked out sounds with each press of Rin’s hips.

Makoto lets out a strangled moan after one particularly vicious slam, and he removes his grip from the desk to reach between his legs.

That won’t do. Rin is quick to grab Makoto’s wrist and pin it beside his head, leaning down slightly without stopping. 

“Come untouched,” Rin whispers, his lips scant inches from Makoto’s.

Makoto pries his eyelids open, his eyes cloudy and unfocused. “Kiss me at least.”

“Alright.” Rin slows down his thrusts fractionally and allows Makoto to raise himself up on his elbows to meet him halfway. The position is a bit difficult, putting a strain on his neck but Makoto’s got insane abdominal muscle strength, and they’re both close to the edge anyway, so they make it work, Makoto’s tongue seeking Rin's palate, the heat of their mouths only eclipsed by the heat wounding up in Rin’s belly, as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

Makoto breaks away, after one particularly powerful thrust makes him grip the desk again, and Rin turns to mouth along the sleek curve of his neck instead.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he whispers in Makoto’s ear, enjoying the shiver it elicited.

Makoto just nods, too wrecked to answer verbally, his ankles almost losing their loose lock on the small of Rin’s back.

Rin drags his teeth along Makoto’s neck, his hips not ceasing in their rhythm, and waits until he hears the quickening of Makoto’s breath, his breathing getting shallower and higher; waits until the throat beneath his lips vibrates with a moan so low it’s almost a growl. Then, just as Makoto tightens around him, Rin bites down, hard enough to hurt a little, but not enough to break the skin, and Makoto’s back arches off the desk, a full body shiver, his voice scattered and hoarse as he cries out Rin’s name.

Rin doesn’t stop moving but he slows down just long enough to let Makoto lie back down, spent and trembling on the desk. Makoto’s always so gorgeous right after he comes, loose-limbed, flushed and glowing like the sun crept under his skin. He breathes heavily, then looks up at Rin from beneath his lashes.

“Rin,” he says, and reaches up to curve his palm around Rin’s cheek, smiling like Rin just gave him the world, and Rin is just _overcome_ with a fierce hot rush of affection for this beautiful boy he loves and loves him back, and that’s the match to the tinder really. He stills, letting his orgasm seize him, the world sweeping away into pure brightness.

When he comes around, he realizes he has collapsed on top of Makoto, whose arms are now wrapped around Rin, one hand stroking his hair. Rin sighs in contentment and nuzzles his cheek into Makoto’s chest, savouring the warmth of his skin. 

Makoto grunts. “Ow.”

Rin looks up, alarmed. “Sorry, I haven’t pulled out yet. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Makoto answers, making a face. “I think I got staple wire on my right butt cheek.”

Rin does his best not to snicker. “Oops. Here, let me get to that.”

He nudges Makoto to lift his hips a bit, and blindly paws under Makoto’s ass. Makoto squirms when Rin pulls out a once-stapled bunch of papers containing what looks to be an article printed from the web. He squints, reading the blurred headline. _How to Get Amazing Man Cleavage_ , it reads, and Rin notices to his dismay that that it’s dotted with hearts and his sister’s name, and a crudely drawn picture of a boy and girl riding a stag beetle.

“I hope those papers weren’t anything important,” Makoto mumbles, wincing a little when Rin finally slides out.

“Nah,” Rin answers and promptly tosses it into the trash bin, followed by the tied up condom. _Not to me at least,_ he doesn’t say. He feels a little guilty, but it’s not like Momo can’t print a new copy. And even if he can’t, he’s always been the resourceful type, despite possessing the attention span of a concussed bat. He’ll live.

They dress and clean up in silence. Makoto picks up the papers he was pretending to write on earlier, selects a few pages and proceeds to dump the rest in the trash can. Rin fetches a can of ocean fresh Lysol and liberally sprays the desk with it.

After the office is finally back to Rin’s absurd standards of cleanliness, Rin stretches his arms above his head and straightens his back, working out the kinks on his neck from bending over the desk for an unwise period of time. “Well, that’s one thing off my checklist.”

Makoto picks up his bag, and raises an eyebrow at him. “Checklist?”

“I have a list of things I wanted to do in this office and the top priority was you.”

Makoto smiles wryly. “I’m flattered.”

Rin punches him lightly on the arm. “You should be. And alright, fine, I wanted to properly thank you for the sakura pool.”

“Hey Haru, Nagisa and Rei helped with that too you know,” Makoto protests, though he couldn’t hide the proud blush on his cheeks.

“Are you suggesting that I give them a thank-you fuck as well?”

Makoto pouts and shakes his head. “No.”

Rin laughs, and taps Makoto on the nose. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Not just jealous,” Makoto corrects. He grabs Rin’s wrist and twists it slightly, bringing it to his mouth. “Selfish.” He looks at Rin, as his lips skim the thin skin above the pulse point, a playful light in his eyes. “Which you said is good once in a while.”

Rin’s breath catches in his throat, as Makoto reaches around his waist with his other hand to pull Rin closer, clearly meaning to take advantage of every minute Haru doesn’t come knocking on his door.

Makoto’s words ring in his head. _Selfish, which you said is good once in a while._

Two days ago, the Iwatobi team surprised him with their sakura pool, a heart-warming gesture that drove Rin to gross tears, even if he didn’t get to swim in it because of unexpected rain. The rain started to fall a little more gently after some time, turning into a drizzle as the sun began to set. He, Haru and Makoto stood under the poolside awning, watching as the cherry blossoms scattered across the water surface. He asked them a question back then, hoping to spark some sort of discussion, desperate for the affirmation that he wasn’t the only one thinking ahead… only to be met by half-hearted, unsatisfying answers.

“What are you thinking?” Makoto whispers, his breath fanning across Rin’s palm.

Rin is thinking about goals, about the future, about how some people need to leave things behind to move forward sometimes. He remembers how Makoto looked at Haru before answering Rin’s question. “Makoto…” he starts hesitantly. “Do you really have nothing planned after graduation?”

He feels Makoto stiffen against him, before slowly pulling away, the unexpected shift in topic obviously catching him off guard, and Rin immediately regrets his brashness. Pillow talk may not be applicable here, but heavy, loaded subjects like their plans for the future are hardly post-coitus topics either.

Makoto scratches the back of his neck. “Not nothing,” he admits. “I’m just… not sure yet.” He bites his lip, fidgets with the strap of his bag, before meeting Rin’s gaze again. “But I promise I’ll tell you when I figure it out for myself.”

It’s not enough, but it’s _something_. Rin chews on his lip, debating on whether or not to ask if Haru has said anything about his own plans, even if he knows how completely implausible it was. Makoto knows that Haru prominently figures in Rin’s ideal vision of the future (and Makoto’s as well), but Haru has been unsurprisingly tight-lipped about the whole thing, much to Rin’s frustration. The regionals are fast approaching, and so is Haru’s best window of opportunity if he ever hopes to take on the dream Rin fervently wishes they could share.

Before he can decide though, there’s a sharp rap on the door, and Haru’s irritated voice floats through.

“Are you guys done? Makoto, I need to shower and our toiletries bag is with you.”

“Yeah, give us a sec!” Makoto calls out before turning back to Rin. He looks uncertain, like there are so many things he wants to say but couldn’t find the words to say them, but his hand is steady when he touches Rin’s hair. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. Okay?”

Rin shrugs, and doesn’t let his disappointment show. He’s learned much from Makoto about patience, and if Makoto is not ready, he won’t push it. “Okay.”

The lines on Makoto’s face relax, mouth curving into its usual tender smile and he leans forward, gently kissing Rin on the forehead. “We’ll be okay, Rin. I just know it.”

*

_~11 months later~_

The café is bustling with activity, the air brimming with various chatter, busy patrons nibbling down on expensive food. It’s crowded, but Rin manages to snag them a corner table near the back, flush against the wall. It’s also cramped but they have a good position, as random people walking by are spared from having to deal with the public health hazard that is Makoto’s long, outstretched legs in tiny aisles.

 “You know I was really surprised you guys opted not to live together,” Rin says, as he takes a sip from his outrageously priced Americano.

Makoto pours a second packet of brown sugar into his double chocolate latte. “It’s not really practical— we go to different universities. Besides, his dorm is a much more convenient location for him since he has a morning training schedule,” he explains, before taking a sip from his disgustingly sweet concoction, and nods in satisfaction. “He’ll be within walking distance and avoid the usual morning rush in the trains.”

“That and his place doesn’t allow pets while yours does,” Rin cajoles with a knowing grin.

Makoto smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I’m still technically living alone, even with Haruru and Yuki there.”

Rin groans, and takes another sip of his bitter beverage. “I still can’t believe you named our cat Haruru,” he grumbles. It took him a full week of subjecting himself to countless scratches in interesting places and Sousuke’s unbearable teasing before he finally gave up and roped in Makoto and his cat-seduction expertise to make “Haruru” submit to his rough-edged but well-meaning charms. And Makoto just had to name it after their favourite water monomaniac. He loves Haru, truly, but it rankles his nerves whenever Makoto does that stupidly adorable kitty talk and appending Haruru’s name every single time. He thought he could get Haru to do something about it but Haru, for some bizarre, incorrigible reason, finds it hilarious, so Rin has no choice but to deal.

“He’s black with blue eyes and likes baths,” Makoto says defensively. “It’s perfect.”

Rin props his chin up with one hand. “Oh yeah? Haru happened to tell me that he named his dog Makkou in middle school. I’m sure that has _no bearing_ at all.”

Makoto’s face turns the colour of his new plaid shirt (his new, _extremely fetching_ plaid shirt which Rin bought during those three days he spent frolicking with Haru in Australia), but he doesn’t reply, and merely takes a long sip of his sweet drink, while pointedly refusing to meet Rin’s eyes.

Rin clucks his tongue, and swipes another bite of Makoto’s carrot cake. “So anyway, have you thought about what I said?”

“About what?”

“Trying out for your university swim team.”

A shadow passes over Makoto’s face, and his grip tightens around his mug of drink. “Rin…”

Rin knows that look, but he’s not about to give up. He respects Makoto’s choice of career path but he couldn’t see why he had to give up something he loves for it. If there’s anything Rin has learned when he came back to Japan, it’s that dreams don’t always have to come at the expense of something else. Once, he told Sousuke that he can keep both his dream and his friends, and this remains true. By that respect, Makoto can keep swimming in a team as he has always enjoyed, while educating himself on how to inspire others to swim as well. “Makoto. You _love_ swimming.”

“Well yeah…” Makoto looks down, hunches his shoulders, trying to appear smaller, in the way that he does when he’s anticipating confrontation. “But I can still swim without competing you know.”

“Yes, but it won’t be a regular part of your life now and you know it,” Rin retorts. “Haru sneaking you into their pool occasionally is not the same thing.”

Makoto’s jaw clenches. “Rin, I told you—“

“—That you think you’re not good enough? Fuck that,” Rin interrupts, feeling his blood pound in his ears at the sudden spike of tension. They don’t argue very often, and Rin hates having to do this, hates having to put pressure on Makoto, but he’s running out of time, and he needs to get this out before it’s too late. “I mean, look at me, exhibit A. I got to where I am right now _precisely_ because back then, when Haru beat me, I thought I wasn’t good enough. I hit a wall. But I never stopped trying.”

Makoto exhales slowly, looking tired. “Rin, I don’t think—. “

“—I'm not done yet,” Rin cuts in again. “See, the only thing that was stopping me back then was my own mind, my own insecurities, and I got over that. That was my wall. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible. I just had to remember that my dream is far greater than any dumb insecurity holding me back. I know I’m good, and I know I can be better. And if I can do it, in a foreign country, away from my friends, you most definitely can. You have what it takes, and I know you have the courage to do it. “

Makoto laughs nervously. He twists his hands in front of him. “Courage huh? I don’t often hear that within the same context as my name.”

“Oh please, all those people calling you a coward? That’s fucking bullshit,” Rin snaps, refusing to be derailed from his current tangent, his words and voice gaining momentum. A couple of other customers steal a glance at them, but he doesn’t care. “Courage isn’t about being brave in the dark, or not being scared of ghosts and bugs and strange noises. Back in elementary graduation, you wrote ‘I Swim’ on your brick. Even when you were afraid of the water, it didn’t stop you from jumping into it. Hell, you chose to train in the _damn ocean_. If that’s not courage, I don’t know what it is.”

Makoto puts down his cup, and slowly looks up, his gaze filled with so much newfound wonder. It pains Rin that Makoto is so surprised to hear this, when he should’ve realized this for himself a long time ago. “Rin… I don’t know what to say.”

Rin shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to answer me now. But that’s how I feel.”

Makoto is definitely smiling now, and Rin grins back, feeling infinitely lighter, the tension seeping away from his skin. He relaxes, leaning back against his seat. “Besides, if my grand speech about courage didn't sway you, well think about this: _sports scholarship_.”  

Makoto quirks an eyebrow. “Really? You think I can get a sports scholarship?”

Rin rolls his eyes. “I told you, didn’t I? You swim at high level. And this isn’t me being biased, you’re talking about the guy who set three new records in Samezuka. Twice. I _know_ what I’m talking about. Also, you know that a scholarship means more saved money, which you can totally use to visit me in Oz.” There. Even Makoto cannot resist the universal allure of financial aid.  

Makoto hums. “That’s true. Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Just take a shot at it okay?” Rin presses. “If it really doesn’t work out for you, I’ll shut up about it. ”

There’s a flicker of something in Makoto’s eyes, brief but clear, and Rin would like to believe that it’s hope. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it abruptly as he stares at a point past Rin. A moment later, the café speakers blare:

_Boarding call for flight JL 771 bound for Sydney, please proceed to gate 34._

Makoto looks at Rin and smiles. “That’s your flight, Rin.”

Already?  Rin looks behind him at the LCD screens resting on the wall of the café, and sees his flight number marqueeing on the teletext at the bottom.

He suddenly feels a lump in his throat. Makoto’s smile does nothing to assuage the inexplicable wave of sadness that hits him, seeping into his bones and the space between his ribs. He tightens his fingers against the strap of his backpack. “Yeah. I… I have to go.”

Makoto stands up and fetches Rin’s carry- on luggage. “Yeah. Come on, I’ll walk you to the gate.”

They exit the café and proceed towards the boarding gates in silence, going with the morning crowd, the back of their hands brushing against each other’s on occasion. Rin’s footsteps are heavy, and he finds himself looking at everything and everywhere except Makoto. He observes random strangers – two girls, standing near the LCD posters, giggling over a video shared on a smartphone, a family of five checking out their flight status, a young foreigner with blond hair holding hands with a Japanese woman, smiling at each other as they walk towards the departure gates. Near the check-in counters, he sees an elderly man holding a baby in his arms, while his wife hugs who Rin presumes to be their son. It’s hard to tell if they’re crying.

Airports are the places of farewells and welcomes, and while he’s no stranger to leaving, it doesn’t mean it gets any easier. Still, he’s been ready for this. He has to be.

He’s broken out of his reverie by Makoto’s voice. “Rin?”

Startled, Rin wrenches his eyes away from the elderly couple and glances sideways at Makoto. “Yeah?”

Makoto turns towards him, his expression earnest. The fluorescent lights overhead bounce off the lenses of his glasses, and for a moment Rin couldn’t see his eyes. Then the moment passes, and the familiar crinkle on the corners of Makoto’s eyes slowly enter his vision, followed by that droopy curve, and settling on the glassy sheen over green irises. They’re coming closer.

The ambient sounds and chatter of the airport suddenly drop to white noise in Rin’s ear, when Makoto leans just a bit closer while still keeping stride, and says: “I’m going to miss you.”

Rin really thought he was ready for this.

He thought wrong.

He stops in the middle of the busy hallway, and the man behind him almost crashes against his shoulder. Rin doesn’t even hear the muttered curses, and just keeps his feet firmly planted on the floor. People pass by him and around him, but Rin doesn’t see them; his vision fixed on the red of Makoto’s plaid shirt, and the outline of his back muscles. 

Ahead of him, Makoto pauses and turns around.

“Rin?”

“I… don’t mind me,” he gasps out, as he furiously rubs at the corners of his eyes with the heel of his palm. “I just got something in my… my...”

Makoto’s brow creases, and he steps closer. “Rin…”

“I’m not crying,” Rin insists, even as fat salty drops spill into his cheeks, and his hand comes away wet. Fuck, he really has to work on that.

Without a word, Makoto takes his hand and drags him away from the rush of people, pulling him behind a secluded pillar in the far end of the departure hall just under the stairs. He drops Rin’s bag on the floor before wrapping his arms around Rin and pulling him close. Rin doesn’t resist, and he hugs Makoto back, grabbing fistfuls of Makoto’s shirt, as he leans his forehead onto Makoto’s shoulder and lets it all out.

Makoto rubs soothing circles on Rin’s back. “We’ll be alright,” he says. His voice is quiet, brave and steady, but it does little to calm Rin’s trembling frame. “This is only temporary. You’ve done this before. You’ll do it again.”

Rin forces himself to speak past his tears. “You… you really think I’m ready to face the world?”

He can feel Makoto’s smile against his hair. “I think the better question is, is the world ready for you?”

Rin sniffles and digs his forehead harder onto Makoto’s shoulder. “Flatterer.”

“It’s true though.” Makoto loosens his hold, and pulls away slightly to look at Rin. Rin stubbornly keeps his arms around Makoto, blinking up at him through the tears. Makoto reaches up, cards his fingers through Rin’s hair. “You’re going to be out there living your dream. And I just know that you’re going to be _so amazing_.”

Rin can hardly speak, because Makoto’s eyes are watery, drops slowly leaking out from the corners. Makoto is _crying_. And it just floors Rin a bit, because he distinctly remembers swearing to himself that on the day he actually witnesses this impossible phenomenon, he’s going on a blood hunt for the asshole responsible. But seeing as that asshole is him, he’s currently in a quandary. “Ohmygod why are you doing this, you don’t cry,” he sputters, in a high pitched panicked voice that shouldn’t belong to him. It feels so odd to be on the other side of the fence – he’s so used to people dealing with his gross sobbing, not the other way around, even if they’re technically both doing the gross sobbing right now. “You don’t cry in front of anyone, why are you crying _now_?”

Makoto laughs despite the two small tears streaking down his face. “Because you’re not just _anyone_ ,” he says. He pushes their foreheads together, a habit he’s come to employ when he wants to ensure that Rin doesn’t miss anything, almost as if he wants to fully impress his thoughts to Rin’s via physical contact. “You’re Matsuoka Rin, the boy who cries too much and loves so hard, the boy who makes people dream big, the boy who showed us sights we’ve never seen before. The boy who swept into our lives and reminded us that there are dreams we need to chase.”

Rin just stares, struck speechless. It’s all too much to take—but Makoto isn’t done yet.

“And you know what they say, right, about how you take on the world?”

Rin manages to speak past the growing lump in his throat, his voice just this side of gravelly. “Um… by storm?

Makoto’s smile is full of heart and it shines out of his eyes. “Yeah. And believe me, Rin.” His gaze is as tender as his voice when leans even closer and whispers:  “…the world has never had a storm like you.”

There are no words to describe what Rin is feeling right now. None. For this, every language is silent, and Rin thinks that maybe it’s better that there’s no name for it now. That way, this is something he can selfishly keep to himself, because if he cannot define it, he cannot share it; it will be something that is his and his alone.

But this is what he knows right now: his dream, right here, is only just beginning. Makoto is kissing him now, his mouth soft and overwhelming, melding sweetly with the vivid heat of Rin’s own lips . He remembers the winter before the last, the wooden slats of his bedroom door digging into his back as Makoto leaned down to kiss him, remembers how it felt like nothing and everything he ever imagined, remembers how his thoughts raced like wayward bullets in his head, and how one of them envisioned exactly what they’re doing now. It’s like a memory of a memory, only in reverse; he is remembering himself envisioning the future, which is now the present moment. He wonders when he can take Makoto to Sydney, and kiss him against the brick wall of the alleyway behind the café too, maybe even against the lockers of the Aquatic Centre after everyone else has left. Maybe one day, he’ll be kissing Makoto with gold slung around his neck, between their bodies, because why separate his dreams when he knows he can have both?

 “You’re impossible,” Rin whispers, when he pulls away.

Makoto smile grows wider, more radiant, but he doesn’t say anything, knowing what Rin means.

It’s true though. Tachibana Makoto is unreal. More than his gentleness, more than his strength, more than that peerless courage, he isn’t just one thing to anyone—he becomes what people need him to be, without effort, without conscious thought. 

There are times when Makoto keeps Rin grounded, reminding him of who he is, how he started, and the journey it took to get here.

And then, there are times like this, when he makes Rin feel lighter than air, limitless and unstoppable, even as the weight of impending distance lies heavy on their future.

Reluctantly, Rin lets Makoto go. They’ve both stopped crying, but the tear tracks are still fresh on their cheeks. Not about to let this opportunity go, Rin reaches up, wipes the pad of his thumb along Makoto’s cheek, and Makoto does the same, and they touch each other’s sadness away.

Rin doesn’t want to say goodbye. So instead, he says: “There’d better be at least a full size bed in your room when I get back.”

“I’ll try,” Makoto says. He hands Rin his duffel back, and cocks his head to the side. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yep,” Rin says, relieved at the quickness with which Makoto reverted back to normalcy. This isn’t goodbye. This is just the beginning.

Makoto steps back, and shoves his hands in his pockets, that damn smile never leaving his face. “Then, see you, Rin.”

“See you, Makoto.” He flashes Makoto one last grin, for real this time, putting his heart and everything into it, before turning around and making his way towards his boarding gate.

He doesn’t look back. Head held high, he walks off towards customs, passport in hand, the memory of Makoto’s kiss still blazing on his lips, and the taste of tomorrow in his mouth.

~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT’S A WRAP. Oh man, this took almost A YEAR to write- I'm so happy to finally mark this as COMPLETE. I wanted to wait until the end of ES to write the epilogue so I don’t accidentally joss anything in canon. Thank you to every one who left kudos and comments and bookmarked this fic, your support has been most instrumental to my writing. <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

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